


Evening Star

by Alicejoneswrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Compulsions, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Not a short story, Slow Burn, buckle up kiddos, esp to herself, magical link btwn sam and viv, only canon deaths, probably smut? tbd, some mental and physical health issues, starts with apocalypse, they aren't applicable/ the focus for long, this is gonna be a slow burn, viv is a mystery, will add more tags later, will be mostly canon but have a pretty big arc in mind for OC that will be interwoven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23457031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alicejoneswrites/pseuds/Alicejoneswrites
Summary: Lucifer is out of his cage, and the apocalypse has begun. Vivian Westbrook hasn't had an easy life or even a comfortable life up until this point, being continually transferred in and out of medical care facilities. She finally feels like she might just be getting her life on track when an undeniable compulsion suddenly has her walking almost 300 miles in 5 days. More surprising still is when her compulsion brings her right to the doorstep of a strange man she has been dreaming of for weeks. The Winchesters believing that some sort of hex has tied Vivian to Sam, Vivian gets a front row seat to a world she didn't know existed and the apocalypse.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	1. Walking on Sunshine and Poorly Maintained Backroads

Vivian Westbrook didn’t know where she was or where exactly she was going, but she was positive it was going to land her back in her old padded cell in Hartford, Connecticut. The most frustrating thing about it was that she had finally seemed to be doing better. Sure, she still saw monsters everywhere and had some compulsions every now and then, but she didn’t believe in the monsters she saw. Not anymore. And her mother had been so proud of her when she had gotten into not one but two different Ph.D. programs for Psychology.

All this progress, and yet, Vivian had still found herself walking along the side of the road—in the middle of nowhere—on the brink of exhaustion for the fifth day. She had never experienced anything like it. First came the dreams: Night after night, a man who was a stranger to her. Still, she yearned to see his smile in the light of day. He had warm hazel eyes, longer brown hair and dimples so sweet, a dentist could cry. That hadn’t been a problem so much as it had been a little odd.

The real problem had been waking up with an overwhelming urge to go _somewhere_. Trying to ignore it, Vivian repeated to herself on a loop what countless counselors and therapists had told her over the years: _Compulsions are anxiety reactions. I don’t have to do this. Everything will be fine, better even, if I don’t._ As she waited, however, pain slowly began to grow throughout her body. Days later, not only had the compulsion continued, the pain had surmounted to absolute agony as every cell in her body screamed at her to go.

While she knew that OCD could cause false physical sensations, this was simply too extreme and long-lasting to make any biological or psychological sense. She was too well-read to try and tell herself otherwise. Although, impossible medical phenomena were simply par for the course with her, she supposed. Up until this point, her life had been a steady stream of defying medical consensus and baffling doctors. _So, why not this too?_

_“No child of her age could possibly be showing symptoms of schizophrenia. It’s just too early!”_

_“Your compulsions must be tied to an anxiety-based obsession or trigger.”_

_“Her body just doesn’t process chemicals the way it should... or really even function the way it should. Maybe it is a severe autonomic dysfunction disorder?”_

Reflecting on the odds that resisting this compulsion could harm her, Vivian resolved that she was too tired to do anything but comply at the moment. Best to ride this one out and to touch base with her medical fan club later. Surprisingly, once she decided to follow her compulsion to its end, the pain –much to Vivian’s utter relief and annoyance—disappeared almost entirely.

From there, Vivian determined rather quickly that “somewhere” was south of her, but infuriatingly could not attain any more information than that. Just when she began to give up hope that there even was a destination or an end to this madness, Vivian found herself at a nondescript motel just outside of Baltimore, and her compulsion stopped. Unsure of what to do next, she decided to get a room and regroup with a plan of action in the morning.

Right as Vivian was about to turn in for the night, she was suddenly hit with a wave of paralyzing fear that was quickly followed by confusion. In a reactionary panic, she scrambled towards the door of her motel. _Enough was enough._ Her cellphone had died days ago, but surely the front desk could put her in touch with help. However, she was once again met by immediate and ruthless pain that came seemingly out of obscurity and then disappeared the moment she cautiously decided to stay put.

Frustrated to the point of tears, she hauled herself back to bed. She couldn’t tell if the exhaustion she felt was her own or one of the crazy-ass emotional onslaughts, but it didn’t matter. She drifted off to sleep, nonetheless.

The following day, Vivian decided she was one stop shy from full-on crazy-town, and she needed help. Although completely impossible, Vivian was positive the flood of emotions bombarding her were not her own. When she had awoken rather early that morning, the only feelings she had felt like hers, her norm. Hours later, however, she was hit by the weight of a guilt so soul-crushing that she was afraid it would have suffocated her if she hadn’t already been moving continuously.

When the mysterious guilt struck, Vivian had been anxiously pacing her room, trying to figure out how she planned on powering through the pain and what she would do once she had. She spent several hours trying to leave the motel room and subsequently blacking out, all the while grappling with the weight of her spontaneously acquired guilt. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Vivian was offered some reprieve. Her compulsion was once again driving her on the move, but this time she needn’t go far. It was pulling her to a different motel room, only a few doors down.

_“Well, at least whoever it is can help straighten this shitshow out when they call the cops on me.”_

With a dejected sigh, Vivian knocked on the door. It quickly swung open to reveal a face mirroring her own shock.

“It’s you,” she breathed out.

At the same time, the man from her dreams exclaimed, “What the hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm super excited to be sharing this fic with you! This is my first time really writing anything after having secretly compiled extensive notes and ideas away for years. This chapter is pretty short as I just wanted to give Vivian a good baseline before we get to business, but I hope you liked it! Fear not, future chapters will be longer.
> 
> I have another 5 chapters or so already written out so I hope to have some type of regular update schedule going, but I can't tell you anything definitive until I figure out the flow of my courses this quarter. (Last quarter of undergrad!) I would love any feedback you have, constructive or otherwise!! (Instant warm and fuzzies). That said, please do be kind as this is my first fic, and I'm still starting to get the feel of everything*.
> 
> Hope you are all doing well & staying safe!  
> (Stay inside and wash those hands, friends)
> 
> *particularly formatting, wow! this is confusing.


	2. Don't Kill the Girl of My Dreams!

_“I… I learned it from Ruby.”_

Sam Winchester didn’t know what to say to his brother Dean. There really wasn’t anything he could say. He had chosen a demon over his own brother, and that betrayal had started the apocalypse. He felt terrified and destroyed by whatever that would mean and all the blood that would be on his hands. Not to mention this somewhat displaced sense of anxiety that had been gnawing at him recently. Although, anxiety seemed pretty normal for the context, so he wasn’t all that surprised.

Rather selfishly, what bothered him the most was that his brother could barely stand to look at him. Realizing that he had accidentally rubbed his transgressions in Dean’s face once again, Sam’s mind scrambled for what to say next. Dean beat him to it.

“So. Speaking of. How are you doing? Jonesing for another hit of bitch blood?”

Relieved that he could at least give his brother some good news, Sam quickly shook his head and responded, “Surprisingly, I’m fine. No shakes. No fever. It’s like whoever…put me on that plane cleaned me right up.”

“Supernatural methadone,” Dean scoffed.

Sam paused, continuing to look at his brother remorsefully. He needed to say... _something, anything!_ However, a knock on the door interrupted him before he got the chance. Immediately on high alert, Dean had already pulled out his gun and stepped off to the side, motioning for Sam to do the same and open the door.

Upon opening the motel door, Sam was met by the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Jet black hair fell past her shoulders. She had intelligent, bright blue eyes, and her fully flushed cheeks were slightly dusted with freckles. She wore a small floral sundress and converse, which likely would have been quite becoming had the whole ensemble not been torn and covered in dirt. She looked terrified, and Sam instantly recognized her as the woman he had been dreaming about; At least, when he wasn’t having gut-wrenching nightmares, that is.

“What the hell,” he said, truly stunned.

Simultaneously, she gasped in a soft, silvery voice, “It’s you.”

Apparently uncomfortable with this exchange, Dean grunted tersely, “Sammy?”

Groaning internally at now another sketchy thing he had to own up to his brother for, Sam hesitantly responded, “I’ve been dreaming about her.”

Well past his limits for the Sam variety of the unexplained, Dean responded in kind by pushing Sam out of the way in order to grab the woman by the collar of her dress and yank her into their motel room, slamming the door behind them. Before Sam could even process what had happened, Dean had her pressed up against the wall with the blade—which had been in Sam’s waistband just seconds before—against her throat.

“Explain yourself!” Dean demanded with a snarl.

The woman’s eyes grew wide and frantic as they darted between himself, Dean, and the door. Once more, Dean shouted at her to explain herself. Her lips parted, but all that came out were tiny gasping sounds that were getting quicker and quicker.

After his initial shock died away, Sam abruptly realized that this situation was about to go seriously wrong. Acting on impulse, he immediately began to pull his brother back. “Dean! Dean. Look. She’s about to hyperventilate. She’s just a girl,” Sam exclaimed.

Resisting Sam’s pull, Dean surged further still into the woman’s space. “You don’t know that,” he growled in response to Sam.

A sense of urgency washed over Sam, and he pulled at Dean with more force, instinctively responding, “No. I do. I don’t know how I know, but I just do. She is not here to hurt us.”

During this entire exchange, the woman had scarcely moved an inch. Her breathing only continued to get faster and shallower. Sam felt his heart constrict at the sight of it and was surprised when he noticed a sense of protectiveness surging within him. The moment was quickly ended though when Dean retorted back, “ _Oh. Like you did with Ruby?_ ” It cut Sam right to his core, but he knew he deserved much worse.

Trying to focus on the matter at hand, he pleaded, “Look, just let me test her. Please. We’ll do this right, and we’ll figure this out. Okay?”

Sam let out a sigh of relief as the strength of his brother’s physical resistance abruptly ceased. Letting his actions speak for him, Dean grunted with a sharp jerk of his head as he stalked back to the motel door-- effectively blocking the exit--, knife still in hand.

After some time and coaxing, Sam finally got the woman’s breathing to a normal range. She now sat on the bed before him sipping on holy water from a silver flask, with her eyes cast downward. It seemed to him as though she hadn’t even realized she was being tested yet.

He gave a pointed look to Dean who merely continued to pace agitatedly. Turning his attention back to the woman before him, he studied her for a moment. She couldn’t be more than 110 pounds, 5’5” or 5’6”? Despite towering over her, he felt the urge to stand up straighter. He was suddenly, acutely aware of and resenting the fact that his palms were sweaty, and the strangest emotions were hitting him. _The_ _absolute fear when Dean put the knife to her throat?_

Sam almost lost himself in the question of it all when he noticed that she was shaking slightly. This broke him out of his thought loop, and he was once again hit by the urge to protect her and make her feel safe. As odd as it was, he chose not to examine it too closely but rather sank to his knees in order to try and catch her gaze.

Speaking softly as to avoid frightening her further, he murmured, “Hey there. I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”

Her eyes were steeled and unreadable as they locked onto his gaze. She said nothing.

Unsure whether this was encouraging or not, Sam told her, “I know this doesn’t excuse it, but you caught us at a pretty bad time. You see, my brother and I are in a tough spot.”

Dean scoffed.

Wincing, Sam continued, “We don’t have a lot of luck with surprises or strange coincidences so you can guess how shocking it would be if someone you only knew from your dreams showed up on your doorstep.”

The woman’s breath hitched a little at that, but she remained silent.

“My name is Sam Winchester, and that’s my brother Dean,” Sam said, nodding his head in Dean’s direction. “Will you tell me your name?”

She gave him a hard look for several long moments before finally saying on a deep exhale, “Vivian. Vivian Westbrook.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Vivian,” he said, offering out his hand to her.

When she sat unmoving, Sam pretended not to notice the pang of disappointment that flashed through him. Drawing his hand back, he continued, “Can you tell me what brought you to our door today?”

This time, Vivian did react more outwardly as her eyes welled up with tears. Sam waited for them to fall, but they never did. She took a couple of deep breaths before turning her head away and replying so softly that Sam almost didn’t catch it.

_“It doesn’t make sense. You’ll think I’m crazy,”_ Vivian had whispered.

Shifting so that he could attempt to catch her gaze once more, he hoped that she would sense his sincerity. He started slowly, “My brother just tried to knife the pretty girl from my dreams, and you’re worried about what _I’ll_ think?” Vivian let out a wet laugh and smiled a small, sad smile in response.

Sam paused for a moment before urging her in earnest, “Try me, Vivian. It might not be as crazy as you think.”

Almost holding his breath, he watched as Vivian seemed to weigh his words before finally telling him, “I’ve been dreaming about you too. For weeks.”

Dean interrupted her with a loud groan. Sam glared at him briefly before looking back to Vivian, who was staring at the ground and seemed to be trying to manage her breathing again. Ever so slowly, Sam put his hand on top of hers and said, “Hey. Are you with me?” which immediately snapped her attention back to him.

When Vivian gave a curt nod in response, Sam smiled and took his hand back, much to his own displeasure. A few more moments passed, and just when he started to wonder about prompting her again, she spoke. 

“I don’t know how or why I’m here. I woke up a little over a week ago with this need to go _somewhere_. It was here, I guess.” Vivian sighed and ran her hands through her hair as she said frustratedly, “I tried to fight it, but the pain became too much.”

“The pain?” Sam questioned, a concerned look etched across his face.

“My whole body burned. The longer I fought it, the worse it got. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I just started walking in the direction it pulled me. I walked for days, barely even stopping for rest or to eat because it wouldn’t let me.” Vivian looked away, but not before Sam saw the mix of shame and anger clear upon her face.

“Is that what happened to your dress?” Sam asked, not unkindly.

Vivian’s face flushed a soft rosy color in response, and Sam mused to himself that it was quite charming on her. Startling a little when he remembered himself, Sam recovered just in time to hear Vivian reply sheepishly about passing out a few times. “Where did you come from?” he asked curiously.

“Hartford,” she told him with a solemn expression.

“Connecticut?! Sweetheart, I would’ve passed out too,” Sam replied teasingly. Immediately, Dean scoffed, and Vivian pulled a strange face. Only then did Sam realize his casual use of the term of endearment, and he cursed himself inwardly. Several awkward seconds went by before Sam continued somewhat uncomfortably, “So, what then? You knew I was here?”

Vivian quickly shook her head in denial. “No, not at all actually. I got to the motel and the pull just…stopped. I was going to crash here and figure out my next steps in the morning, but…” She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

“But what?” Sam pressed.

She replied somewhat hesitantly, “Around 11:30 last night, I got hit with this paralyzing fear and confusion.”

Both Sam and Dean’s eyes snapped to each other’s, sharing a meaningful look. Vivian, however, had been fidgeting with a stray thread coming off one of the tears in her dress so she missed the interaction between the two brothers and continued on. “I got scared and tried to leave, but the pain came back. I ended up just going to bed, and I- I thought things might be going back to normal when I woke up, but then I felt this terrible guilt. I know its not possible, but I don’t think the feelings were mine. They were just- I was so…” She faltered for a moment, and then a look of resolve crossed her face. “From there, I was trying to figure out how to get help when suddenly I was being drawn to your door, and here we are, I guess.”

Finally losing himself in his own possible revelations, Sam echoed back, “And here we are.”

The room sat quietly and somewhat tensely until Dean loudly clapped his hands together and proclaimed, “Well that’s just great Sammy. You couldn’t have just a demon as your girl. You had to have a dream girlfriend on the side, too! Wonder what she’s going to talk you into, huh?”

Revitalized guilt flooded Sam’s system--shocking him back to awareness—and waged war against his newfound protective instincts towards Vivian. Ultimately, his protectiveness won out as he pushed back, “Whatever is happening here is not her fault. It could be a hex?”

“Oh yeah? Where’s the hex bag? It’s not like that dress of hers has pockets!” Dean shot back.

“They never do,” Vivian muttered weakly, seemingly to no one in particular.

Sam stopped to give her a confused look before continuing on, “Look Dean. This is a job, okay? We work the job, and then we can move on. Let’s work the job.”

Dean stared at Sam for a moment with a look crossed between astonishment and rage painted clearly across his face. “A job?! This isn’t a job. This is more of your… Your—”

Sam couldn’t help the hurt that colored his tone as his voice rose. “My what?! Some more of my freak crap?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Sammy.” Dean replied sternly.

“You did.”

“Look, Sammy. The _only_ job right now is icing the devil. You know that. I know that. There’s no room for…” Dean sighed, gesturing towards Vivian. “For whatever else this is.”

Sam was then hit by another wave of anxiety as he watched Vivian’s eyes begin to well up and she began to tremble as if she had never stopped. At this point, he was sure these emotions were Vivian’s, but he said nothing of it, not wanting to anger Dean further.

Sam then watched Dean turn his attention to Vivian and say with a stony expression, “Vivian- Any other time, we’d be your guys. We’d be the ones who get you out of this bind, but whatever it is you got going… Well, we have bigger fish to fry. That’s just how it is. It’s time for you to go.”

Nodding and sniffling quietly, Vivian got up from the bed only for her face to immediately contort into a grimace. She took a few shaky steps towards the door, and Sam watched with alarm as her knees buckled, sending her slamming into the wall directly adjacent to the door.

Sam immediately rushed over to try and help her but taking one look at Dean’s cold expression above her, Vivian quickly shrugged him off and said somewhat sharply, “Don’t. I’ll be fine.”

Much to Sam’s irritation, he guessed that this act had fostered some small amount of respect for the woman on Dean’s end as his brother’s expression had softened just slightly. Before Sam could say anything more, Vivian was already out the door, closing it firmly behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter in one night to really help get the ball rolling, I hope! Again, I would love to hear any and all feedback you might have, and kudos make the world go round :')  
> Have a good one!


	3. Not Our Problem

Turning to his brother, Sam started, “Dean-”

“Sam, it’s okay. You don’t need to say anything.”

Sam snorted, “I don’t need to say anything? Well, that’s good because what can I even say? Huh? I’m sorry? I screwed up? Doesn’t really do it justice, you know? Look, there’s nothing I can do that will ever make this right-”

With anger coloring his tone, Dean exclaimed, “So why do you keep bringing it up?” Sighing, he continued, “We made a mess. We’ll clean it up. Just like any other hunt.” Taking another breath, Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly and said, “So, what do we do now?”

“We find out where the thing is?” Sam responded hesitantly.

“Yup. Great. So, we just gotta find the devil.”

“But Dean, don’t you think that girl has to be our responsibility? Our mess? Somehow? She randomly woke up bound to me. I don’t see how it couldn’t be our responsibility. At the very least, she could be important for everything going on with Lucifer? With the timing of what’s happening to her, you can’t tell me it’s a coincidence!”

Dean sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah? Well, she’s gone now so it’s not like it matters.”

“Oh, come on. She couldn’t have gotten far. In her condition? You know it would take like five minutes to find her, tops.”

The agitation and exhaustion clear on his face, Dean huffed, “What’s done is done. Okay Sammy? Leave it alone. Now pack your crap. We’re finding a new motel. I knew I shouldn’t have let you pick this place.”

The two brothers stood there tensely for a few moments before Sam finally turned away and began shoving the few items he had with him into his backpack. Shortly after as they headed back towards the Impala, Sam recognized a familiar sundress and two long legs stretched across the concrete pavement from behind a pillar about ten or fifteen rooms down. He raced over to find Vivian, out cold, with blood running down the side of her face from her nose.

“Dean!” He shouted, unceremoniously scooping Vivian up into his arms and racing back to the Impala.

Dean was leaning up against the car, wearing his increasingly more regular look of annoyance. “Great. Here we go again. Drop her off at the front desk, Sammy. Not our problem.”

“Not our problem?!” Sam roared, “Seriously, Dean?! How is she not our—Whatever this is, it will kill her if we leave her here. That’s on us. I mean look at what happened when she went across the lot. Anyways, if you won’t do it for her, do it for me. Okay? It’s not just the dreams. I’m pretty sure… I think I’ve been feeling her emotions, and she’s been feeling mine. For all we know, what’s happening to her could happen to me, and the last thing we need is me crapping out at a time like this. So, we just bring her along until we can figure out what this is and make it stop. Okay?”

Angered by yet another thing Sam had neglected to tell him, Dean growled out, “That’s nice Sammy, real nice. Were you ever going to tell me about you and your soul sister’s emotional bonding, huh? Hell, I wouldn’t even know about the dreams had she not shown up.” Knowing that there was nothing he could do at this point, Dean let out a long sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “Fine. Sleeping Beauty comes along, but you gotta clean that blood up first. Nobody bleeds on Baby. And… She goes in the back.”

Relief flooded through Sam, and he quickly set off to the hotel room with Vivian still cradled in his arms. Much to Sam’s concern, Vivian did not stir once during his argument with Dean or the walk back to the motel room. Once inside, Sam triple-checked Vivian’s pulse—which had been normal—and gently tried to wake her but to no avail. This worried him, but he reminded himself to give her a little time and set about washing the blood off her face with a wet washcloth.

Carrying her back to the car, Sam was beginning to really worry that he had been wrong about why she had passed out. He had almost reached the Impala and was trying to remember the nearest hospital when Vivian finally began to wake. Her eyes were bloodshot and bleary as she let out a soft and confused, “Sam?”

Opening the car door with one hand, Sam shushed her softly, “It’s going to be okay Vivian. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.”

She nodded drowsily, but the moment Sam put her down in the car and let go, Vivian arched her back violently and cried out in pain. This time, both brothers shared a look of alarm, and Dean made his way around to where Sam was crouched down before her.

“Vivian, what’s wrong?” Dean asked her intently.

Vivian’s face had gone ghostly pale, and her eyes were clamped shut. Her only response came in the form of sharp pants. The stress of the moment beginning to get to him, Sam grabbed Vivian by the shoulders and demanded, “Vivian, you need to tell us what’s wrong. Tell me what’s wrong _._ ”

Her eyes snapped open, full of shock and confusion. She started, “The pain is different this time. It always went away when I followed my compulsion. This time, it’s like it’s only fading gradually, and…”

“And what?” Sam pressed. Up until this point, Sam had been feeling panic, confusion, and shock all coming from Vivian. That made sense given the circumstance. What didn’t make sense was the shame he felt from her when she shook her head and murmured no in response to his question. Feeling alarmed, Sam pushed harder, needing to know. “And what, Vivian? Answer my question.”

Sam watched as the panic and shock that he felt from her flooded her eyes once more, but she answered him regardless. “It hurts more when you’re not touching me. I think you’re… dampening it somehow.”

“Oh,” Sam replied, sitting back on his heels. This time, the embarrassment that reddened her face and burned in his chest belonged to both of them.

A few more awkward moments passed before Dean whistled and said snarkily, “And for the second time today: Supernatural Methadone. Awesome. Okay, well don’t be whiney about it, you two. You know who whines? Babies.”

Sam let go of Vivian’s arms to face Dean, who was walking towards the driver’s seat. Both men heard the stifled cry that directly followed. Turning back to Vivian, Sam took her hand with an apologetic smile. He stalled, trying to think of something he could tell her to make this less weird, but after his second false start, Dean finally called from inside the car, “Shut your cakehole and get in the back, Sam.” 

Sam obliged and offered an arm around Vivian with an awkward smile. She looked uncomfortable, but she ultimately accepted with a small but grateful smile of her own. The relief on her face was evident almost instantly, and it wasn’t long until she had fallen asleep practically on top of him.

Avoiding Dean’s gaze in the rear view mirror, Sam mused over how small Vivian looked in his arms. He also noted that her skin tone seemed to be returning to a normal shade. He almost had to stop himself from running his hands up and down her arms to prove that she was even real. Despite whatever effect he was having on her pain levels, he knew that didn’t give him an excuse to feel her up.

This thought prompted him to sit back and really consider what he knew of Vivian’s actions up to this point. He honestly couldn’t image the amount of pain she must have been in to accept getting in a car with two strange men—one of whom had already violently threatened her life—and decide that physical vulnerability was her best option. Sam, himself, had only been on the receiving end of a fraction of this experience’s stressors, and yet he already found it to be overwhelming and confusing.

Musing over the possible reasons and outcomes for the predicament he and Vivian found themselves in, Sam decided that Dean was right but not for the reason he’d think. Dean thought that Vivian was too complicated of a problem, that it was too risky to devote time helping her when Lucifer was out there. Sam agreed that this job probably wasn’t going to be cut and dry, and there was not going to be an easy fix to the bind that Vivian found herself in. That said, Sam’s gut told him that Vivian was important somehow, that it was too risky _not_ to devote time to her when Lucifer was out there.

Looking down at Vivian once more, Sam was overwhelmed by an intensity of emotion that almost scared him. He couldn’t say how yet, but he knew that Vivian was going to play a large role in the future ahead. Whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not, Sam knew that she was the kind of important that once you find it, you don’t let it out of your sight for a minute. Leaning his head back with a groan, Sam tried to shake the feeling that his world had been irrevocably changed but to no avail, and that worried him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you how commented and left Kudos on my previous chapters. I can't tell you how giddy that made me! I hope you liked this next chapter. I've decided my plan is to do roughly a weekly update of 1-2 chapters. I'll post 2 chapters instead of 1 when I feel like the 1st chapter I'm posting is a bit short, or I'm super excited & impulse control goes out the window. 
> 
> Please do continue to leave any feedback you might have!!  
> hope y'all are staying healthy and happy during this time.


	4. On the Highway to a Hell of a Lot Less of the Warranted Panic Given the Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivian wakes up and tries to take stock of herself and the events so far

_Vivian stood in a long, clinical looking hallway that seemed to stretch on to no end. On each side of her stood plain wooden doors that had additional doors equidistant to them on either side. Some doors had thick ivy growing into and around them. Others did not. Like the hallway, the doors seemed to span outwards indefinitely._

_Confused, Vivian noticed that if she looked too long at one place, the very world around her seemed to shift in and out of focus. Feeling curious, Vivian reached out to a door before her but paused when she noticed her own hands blurring and shifting. She watched with alarm as her hands changed: Small hands, grown hands, bruised hands, bare hands, cracked and bloody hands, red nails, black nails, long nails, short nails, smaller hands still. She knew instinctively that they were all different versions of her own hands, but that did little to quell the panic growing within her._

_Trying to get her bearings, Vivian reactionarily whipped around, finding an old but beautiful antique mirror where a door had once been. It had a strong and elegant bronze frame that looked like ivy, vines, and flowers all intertwined and interconnected. The mirror itself had stormy cloud-like patterns creeping inward from all the edges. All of these details, however, were lost on Vivian, who stood staring into the mirror with equal parts horror and awe. She watched as different versions of herself blurred and slid across her form like oil on water. It was dizzying to watch, and Vivian was nauseated by the sight of it._

_Stumbling backwards, Vivian cried out for help. Suddenly, a man with scruffy blonde hair and a condescending smirk appeared far too close behind her. He said nothing but seemed to be watching her with curious amusement._

_Vivian rapidly spun around with her arms outstretched-- in a poor attempt to strike away the man behind her—but her attempted blows found only empty air. Terrified, Vivian took off running down the hall as fast as she could; her nails cut little crescent moons into her palms as she balled up her fists in reaction to the stress and exertion of each stride. After each door she passed, Vivian could see the man casually leaning up against the wall—sneering at her and watching her with his piercing eyes—in her peripheral. It pushed her to run faster, harder._

_*_  
*  
* 

Vivian woke slowly to something warm and firm beneath her. Feeling cozier than she had in a long time, she instinctively snuggled into the warmth. Slowly piecing all the day’s events back together in her mind, Vivian sluggishly realized with some amount of embarrassment that it was Sam she was laying on. Rather than alert the brothers to her waking, she decided to try and get ahold on her situation first. Vivian was surprisingly calm, probably even alarmingly so, but despite any and all reasons to feel or think otherwise, Vivian’s gut told her she was exactly where she should be; She was with exactly who she needed to be with. Regardless of its lack of support or reasoning, that was comforting.

For as long as she could remember, Vivian had been sensitive to what she used to believe were people’s energies. Quite early on, however, adults began to habitually reinforce the impossibility that Vivian could “see the lightness or darkness in someone.” Overtime, she grew to agree with them, especially because there was no concrete evidence on her behalf. Somewhere along the way, she began telling herself that she just had a strong gut instinct. She told herself that she was naturally perceptive to microexpressions, and her subconscious utilized that information accordingly. Although, part of her always knew it was more than that.

Vivian had currently surmised that that given all other logic was out the window, she might as well make use of whatever information she had, irrespective of the source or reasoning. She could definitely tell that while Dean was not thrilled by her presence and had some darkness in him—Sam too--, she had passed whatever test Sam had mentioned early, and Dean no longer posed a threat. Though, that didn’t mean he didn’t make her anxious or that she shouldn’t be cautious of him.

Sam, on the other hand, was confusing. Upon meeting him beyond her dreams, Vivian immediately felt _so_ drawn to him, and something about him made her feel safe. She also knew that he was sincere in his concern and desire to help her; He was very clearly someone who felt and reacted in earnest to the people and things around him. It didn’t hurt that Vivian was pretty sure it was his emotions that she had somehow been keyed into. That said, the very fact that they were somehow supernaturally bound was reality-shattering and unsettling. “ _Though, reality has always been relative, hasn’t it?”_ Vivian mused to herself.

It was much more than just the crazy-ass emotional, psychic dream link-- _or whatever--_ that concerned Vivian. When Sam had demanded answers from her, both times she had undeniable compulsions to answer him. She had never had compulsions to follow peoples’ directives or comply with demands before, nor had she heard of such a thing. At best—even if Sam was a perfect saint--, Vivian had to worry about the risks this new phenomenon posed to her autonomy, should it continue. At worst? Vivian didn’t even want to think about the implications if she were to be wrong about Sam. She then decided that for now, it was absolutely vital that she kept this information to herself, the best that she could.

Taking stock of her physical state, Vivian noted that she was a little worse for wear. She still had a mild headache, and she ached as though she had spontaneously run a 5k. Whatever was happening to her was definitely getting worse. The palms of her hands also ached a little. It seemed likely that she had cut into them with her nails at some point, but she didn’t really remember doing so. That said, Vivian was feeling so much better than she had at the start of the car ride. Sam was like some kind of wonder-drug.

Finally becoming more aware of her surroundings, Vivian realized that the two brothers were whispering tersely about something. Despite her almost eerie sense of calm, Vivian was still unable to help the way her body tensed up at Dean growling something about the “ _god-damn apocalypse_ ” as he flipped through dozens of radio-stations, each listing a different natural disaster.

This prompted Sam to lean in and murmur softly in her ear, _“Vivian, I know you’re awake.”_ Vivian froze, only tensing up further while her heart rate skyrocketed. This wasn’t because she felt threatened but rather the surprise of being put on the spot like that had flustered her deeply, and she couldn’t help but begin to berate herself inwardly.

Sensing the distress-- either through the emotional link or the feel of her heart pounding out of her chest--, Sam was quick to reassure her. “Everything is okay. I promise. We do have lots to talk about though.”

Still feeling a little bashful and not wanting to push her luck, Vivian nodded and started to pull away from him when he stopped her and asked, “How are you feeling? Any pain still?”

She hesitated before answering honestly, “Some, but it’s not nearly as bad as before. Thank you for that.” Once again, she started to pull away when Sam interrupted her.

“Wait…”

Just like before, the compulsion hit in full force. Her whole body froze against her will as she waited for what he would say next. He smiled sheepishly at her before continuing slowly, “I… help, right?”

Vivian nodded.

“So, stay. Until you feel 100% or the car ride ends. Whatever comes first. I want to help.”

She felt a wave of his worry, and his face told her that he expected her to refuse outright. _“Not like I can,”_ she thought wryly to herself as every inch of her now felt drawn into him, as if by magnets. She murmured a quick yes and settled back under his arm, feeling the surprise and warmth that Sam experienced as a result of her actions. As strange as the context was, Vivian, herself, couldn’t help but notice her own warmth that blossomed in her chest at how surprisingly natural it felt in Sam’s arms.

She waited for him to speak, but when he didn’t, she asked hesitantly, “So…you said we needed to talk?”

Up ahead, Dean seemed to be casually paying attention to the road, but Vivian got the feeling that he only appeared so because he wanted to and was actually listening quite intently to them. There was a short pause before Sam nodded and responded, “Yeah, but it can wait. How about you relax and focus on feeling better, and we’ll talk when you get to the next motel?”

“Next motel? You aren’t taking me to a hospital? _Or a mental hospital_ at that?” Vivian responded, jerking back slightly.

Realizing what he had let slip, Sam winced and instantly went to reassure her again that all was well. Searching his face for any signs of insincerity and finding none, Vivian gave a curt nod and decided not to panic. _Yet._ She could justify, for now, that non-medical problems would have non-medical solutions.

Suddenly, the car began to roll to a stop, and Dean cut in with a false cheerfulness, “Speaking of; Honeys, we’re home!” gesturing towards yet another nondescript motel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this update came a little bit later than a week. I was feeling a little under the weather. Sorry!  
> Anyhow. What do you guys think of Vivian? Start paying attention to the little things cause from here on out, any detail is fair game for the big picture :')  
> As always, I hope you and your loved ones are staying safe, healthy and happy! *And wash those hands!*


	5. Getting In the Know

Vivian sat on a motel bed with her arms wrapped tensely around her knees as she quietly processed all the information Sam and Dean shared with her. They had told her all about monsters and hunting, curses and hex bags, angels and demons, and _oh yeah._ The apocalypse. When she had finally responded to them, all she had said was, “Some of that actually makes sense.”

Vivian saw and felt Sam’s relief that she hadn’t just run off screaming while Dean had simply quirked an eyebrow at her and chuckled as if he was placing an internal bet on whether she was totally batshit. He stuck around for a bit, but once he felt he had the all clear that things were stable for the moment, Dean declared that he was going to the gas station to buy some grub and maybe a fresh change of clothes for Vivian because “ _there is no way she is going to track more crap into Baby._ ”

“Baby?” She had questioned once Dean left. Sam’s face pulled into a smirk and lighthearted amusement danced in his eyes as he told Vivian that Baby was Dean’s pet-name for the car. This led to some pleasant, surface level conversations between the two of them. Happily going back and forth trading small details about themselves, the stressors of the outside world were momentarily forgotten. As all things, the reprieve eventually came to its end when Vivian told Sam about the graduate programs she had to choose from.

Sam had initially seemed genuinely interested in her chosen field of study, however, as Vivian’s outward passion for her field grew, the more Sam seemed to retreat into himself. Towards the end, Vivian began to notice a foreign guilt creep in. Somewhat abruptly, Sam cut her off and promised her with a solemn face that he would make sure she got back to that life of hers.

Seeing that Sam was done talking for the moment, Vivian chose to reflect on the different possibilities her situation held for her and what they might mean. The first and most obvious choice was that none of this was real, and she was so far off the deep end that she didn’t even notice her rapid decline. The second—and more intriguing—option was that all of this was real.

“ _If that is the case, were all the monsters I’ve seen real? What if I now live in a world where monsters are real, and I have hallucinations?”_

Vivian felt equally comforted and concerned by the prospect that she hadn’t hallucinated all those times. It was hard balancing the possible information of _“You’re not delusional”_ with _“the world is now an infinitely more dangerous place.”_

That brought her to her next thought. If all of this was real, then this hex could legitimately kill her. _Also, why bind her to Sam?_ While the second option was logistically less probable than an infinitely more problematic and unusual Schizophrenia-OCD combo attack, the risks of having the brothers leave her at a hospital were too high if she were hexed. Additionally, she was too far down the rabbit hole for it to make much of a difference if it did turn out to be a load of nonsense anyhow.

Some time later, Dean returned unceremoniously with dinner and dessert from a local diner. Without so much as a hello, Dean had gruffly shoved a salad and a slice of pie at her “ _because she looked like the salad type._ ” Vivian decided it was probably a sexist evaluation on Dean’s part, but she also knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. It wasn’t like she could eat the other crap he’d brought with him anyways. Except maybe some of the pie. _Gods, did that man love pie._ In any other context, Vivian might have been a little weirded out by how one man could be so emotionally invested in a piece of food, but currently? She, too, looked at her slice of pie as if the sun rose and set with every grain of sugar. 

Eventually, when they all seemed to be wrapping up with their meals, Dean grunted in Vivian’s direction and chucked a bag of miscellaneous clothing and a toothbrush at her. Looking through its contents, she found an assortment of sweatpants and shirts of differing sizes. Noting with amusement that each item supported a different sports team, Vivian surmised that Dean—uncomfortable asking or speculating her size—had simply bought a little of everything.

Unfortunately, there were no undergarments in the bag which meant Vivian would have to do laundry. Although, once Vivian considered how that likely would have occurred, she quickly decided that this was for the best.

Murmuring a quick thanks to Dean, Vivian awkwardly scurried to the bathroom and began to strip off the horribly soiled clothes. She hadn’t truly realized how bad it was until she stood there in the nude, feeling like she had shed multiple dead layers of skin. Cringing at the thought, Vivian began to look for her sizes amongst the various clothes.

She eventually found a small Seahawks t-shirt and medium Baltimore Ravens sweatpants. Vivian had to really pull at the drawstrings to keep it sufficiently secure around her waist, but it would suffice. Looking at herself in the mirror, she realized two things: First, she was sorely in need of what would be her second shower of the day as dried bits of blood and dirt had matted her hair during her earlier collision with the concrete. Second, both the sports teams’ mascots that she wore were birds. _“Birds of a feather flock together,_ ” she thought, snorting at the silliness of it, before rejoining the boys in the main room.

Vivian quickly informed the two brothers that she was going to use the motel’s laundry machines, which they had passed on their way up. Dean looked vaguely suspicious while Sam had a face of concern, though neither man made a move to stop her. Half-way down the stairwell, it dawned on Vivian that no pain had occurred. “ _Okay, so distance is a factor, but intentionality more so,”_ she noted. Reaching the washers, Vivian swore when she realized it was coin operated, remembering that her dead phone and wallet were likely still in her old motel room.

This was immediate cause for concern to Vivian who began agonizing over the worry she may have caused if anyone noticed her missing. This wasn’t unlikely as although her lab job had ended so she didn’t have work to report to, there was still Vivian’s mother who liked to check up on her regularly. Despite Vivian being almost 24, her mom had a tendency to be overbearing given her history.

“Probably for good reason,” Vivian muttered with a sigh.

Returning to the motel room, she was met by a very skeptical looking Dean. “Aren’t you supposed to be all agonized and needy for Sammy right now?” he retorted, looking at her flatly.

Completely offended by the remark, Vivian shrugged and shot back defiantly, “I guess not.” With a fire growing in her belly, Vivian continued to glare confrontationally at Dean who, albeit irritated, was largely unfazed and seemed to be considering her carefully.

Trying to dissolve some of the tension, Sam quickly jumped in. “Vivian, you didn’t find the laundry machines?”

She let out an irritated huff, but her eyes softened when she turned to him. “It was coin operated. Speaking of, you didn’t happen to grab my wallet or my phone, did you?”

When Sam gave her an apologetic smile, she continued with a resigned sigh, “That’s what I thought. Okay, well. I still need to do laundry, and I need to touch base with my mom or something, so she doesn’t file a missing person report.”

Snickering, Dean gestured towards the motel phone, where Vivian saw the cord had been chewed clean through by rats or the like. Heat flushed into Vivian’s face, and before she knew it, Sam had ushered her back outside into the cool night air, Dean’s full-bodied laughter trailing behind them.

Smiling sympathetically, Sam offered her his hand and simply said, “Let’s go find you a payphone, yeah?” There were no compulsions this time when she gratefully took his hand with a soft smile, just happy to accept some comfort during an otherwise horrible week.

They only held hands long enough for Sam to gently tug her along towards the machines, but Vivian couldn’t deny the intense effect Sam had on her as a sense of relief and calm washed over her the moment their hands touched. They didn’t talk much between the washers and the search for a payphone, both seemingly content just to share each other’s company for the moment. Sam had apologized for Dean’s behavior a few times, to which Vivian merely called Dean an ass under her breath. Having caught him off-guard, this warranted a small chuckle from Sam.

When they reached a payphone, Sam had respectfully stayed a few steps back, giving her the appearance of privacy. Although, she wasn’t entirely convinced that was the case. Slowly, Vivian put in the coins Sam had given her and dialed her mom. As she did so, she anxiously envisioned all the different ways this call could go. Vivian didn’t know what her mom did or didn’t already know, but she would need to be careful not to raise any alarms if she wanted to follow this through.

Her mom picked up on the third ring with a semi-confused “ _Hello?”_

Despite the heavy pit that had appeared in her stomach, Vivian put on her best cheerful tone. “Hey mom. It’s me.”

Her mom immediately began lightly scolding her for calling so late which told Vivian that her absence, thankfully, had not been noticed yet. “Mom! It’s barely after nine, you drama queen!”

Her mom chuckled good-naturedly in response. “Wait, Vi. Where are you calling from? I didn’t recognize the area code.”

Vivian winced. Her mom never did seem to miss a beat. The pit in her stomach growing larger still, Vivian mustered up as much false enthusiasm as she could before responding, “That’s actually what I was calling about! I wanted to give you a heads up; Don’t worry if you can’t get ahold of me for the next few weeks. I’m actually calling you from a payphone in the Baltimore airport.”

“What? Why?”

“I got a few last-minute invitations to be wined-and-dined by a couple more graduate programs! I had to run straight to the airport when I found out. I was about to call you after I went through security, but I tripped and smashed my phone all up. You know me,” Vivian chuckled weakly. “My schedule will be crazy busy so I don’t think I’ll have time to buy a new one until I’m back home, but I promise to call you with updates when I can.”

“Oh, Vivian! That’s wonderful news! I am just so proud of you, you know. I know the years have been hard on you, but you’ve really come into your own and are growing into such an amazing young woman, Vi.”

As Vivian’s mom gushed to her, Vivian held a hand over her mouth, muffling her soft cries. She made no move, however, to stop the steady stream of tears that fell freely down her face.

“Vi, can you hear me? Are you still there?”

Vivian shook herself, realizing that her mom had stopped speaking more than a few moments prior. Quickly trying to compose herself, she replied somewhat sniffly, “Yeah. I just got a little lost for a second.”

Her mom, picking up on the emotional response but misattributing the reason, responded empathetically, “Oh honey, I know. I love you too. But listen! You should be out celebrating! Go find a bar or something and flirt with one of the cuties you find there! I need to catch up on my beauty sleep so I am going to let you go, okay?”

Vivian laughed wetly, “Sounds good, Mom. I love you.”

“Love you too, Vi. Have a good night.” Then the line went dead.

In something of a daze, Vivian let out the choked sob she had been holding in and promptly headed toward a little clearing of trees across the road. Barely processing the short time it took to get there, Vivian’s mind didn’t catch up to reality until her back was hitting against the bark of a sturdy oak tree, and she was sinking to the ground.

At her side in an instant, Sam reached out to her tentatively. When she didn’t resist, he pulled her into his arms without question, and she clung to him, crying freely for some time. Slowly, her tears began to dry up, and Vivian began to become more aware of Sam slowly rocking them back and forth, all the while murmuring soothing things to her. He must have sensed a change in her emotional state because Sam then gently put his hands on her shoulders and pulled back slightly. Looking into her eyes, he spoke softly, “Hey…Are you feeling any better?”

Deeply embarrassed, heat rose to Vivian’s face, and she turned her face away. When she spoke, her voice was coarse, and a few more tears fell. “I’m so sorry,” she sniffed.

Taking one of his hands off her shoulder, Sam softly cupped her cheek and guided her gaze back to his own. Wiping away a stray tear with his thumb, he shushed her kindly, “No, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re handling this all so well. Amazingly, actually. I can’t even imagine how difficult all of this must be for you. I promise you though, we’re going to get through this. Okay?”

Not trusting her voice, Vivian nodded back to him. The two continued to stare into each other’s eyes, with Sam still stroking her cheek absentmindedly with his thumb. The very air around them seemed to shift as the moment between the two intensified. Noticing the way Sam’s eyes quickly flicked to her lips and back, her heartrate began to pick up.

Sam then sighed and pulled away somewhat abruptly while telling her, “We should get back and turn your laundry over. Dean’s probably going to come looking for us if we take much longer.” He quickly rose to his feet, pulling Vivian up with him. Sam looked at her as though he wanted to say something more but apparently thought better of it and set off briskly back towards the motel without a word, leaving Vivian behind him.

Feeling confused and a little hurt, Vivian thought to herself, _“What the hell just happened? What am I doing?"_

Jogging to catch up to Sam, Vivian remembered that she was seemingly emotionally connected to Sam, though she hadn’t felt anything from him in a while.

Musing over how it might work, Vivian decided to focus inward and search for any emotion that felt out of place. She almost missed it at first, but she then noticed a faint feeling of disgust masked by her own, stronger emotions. Feeling her hurt increase tenfold, Vivian wrapped her arms around herself and thought dejectedly, _“Well that answers that.”_

Upon returning to the motel room once more, Dean began to greet them with whatever snarky quip he had spent most of their entire absence preparing but stopped himself once he saw Vivian’s still red-rimmed, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. Instead, he told her awkwardly that he would call their old motel and pay to have her belongings shipped to a PO Box near the address on her license. Surprised by his act of kindness, Vivian thanked him briefly and then excused herself to take an absolutely scalding shower which she hoped would burn away all the emotions of the day.

When Vivian finished with her shower, she walked in on Sam sitting at the tiny coffee table in the corner of the room with a tense look about him. In front of him sat an open laptop, but his eyes were glued firmly to his brother who stood leaning against the motel door with a cellphone in hand.

“Alright Bobby. We’ll keep looking on our end. See you tomorrow.” Dean hung up with a sigh and ran his hands through his hair, stopping short when he saw Vivian’s face frozen in irritated disbelief.

“You had a phone this whole time?!” Vivian seethed.

Biting back a laugh, Dean responded, “Oh, Sammy and I have plenty. I would’ve offered you one, but I doubt you’d want anyone calling back a voicemail for the feds or one that has people thinking you’re caught up with a guy like me.”

Vivian scoffed and gave Dean a sickly-sweet smile, “You’re right. My mom would clock you for being a douche in under five, and I would never hear the end of it.”

Dean stood there sputtering while Vivian smiled smugly. Throwing a quick glance over to Sam, her face fell a little when she noticed Sam staring at the two of them with a faraway look in his eye.

“Sam?” she questioned gently.

Sam, blinking rapidly, shook his head and cleared his throat. “Sorry?”

With now two concerned pairs of eyes on him, the taller man chose to deflect. “So…uh, Bobby?”

“Yeah. He’ll get here sometime tomorrow. Hopefully with some better leads for us than Chuck.” Dean responded, still regarding his brother thoughtfully.

Vivian looked between the two brothers questioningly. “Bobby…Chuck?”

Not taking his gaze away from Sam, Dean answered Vivian. “Chuck is God’s prophet, and Bobby…well, he’s family.”

Vivian was going to ask more but was surprised by a wave of shame coming from Sam as he kept his eyes cast downward. Rather than risk overstepping any boundaries or causing any problems, Vivian decided she’d just leave it at that. She was too exhausted to really process any new information anyways.

Humming out an acknowledgement to Dean, Vivian then set out to make a makeshift bed on the sofa couch with some extra pillows and sheets she found in the side closet.

“Wait, what are you doing, Vivian?” Sam asked once he noticed Vivian tucking sheets over the couch cushions.

Vivian paused for a moment to take him in. Whatever guilt Sam was holding onto was clearly doing a number on him. His shoulders and jaw were taught, his eyes tired and dull. She had a feeling he was about to try and make her take the bed, which was ridiculous given his tall stature. “What does it look like? I’m making a bed, Sammy,” Vivian told him with a kind smile.

“You should take the bed.”

_“And there it is!”_ Vivian chuckled inwardly. “No, I shouldn’t. You couldn’t fit on this couch if you tried. The sides, I can’t really sleep well if there isn’t something solid at my back anyhow.”

“But—”

“Nope.” Vivian then plodded herself down on her sofa-bed and looked at Sam pointedly.

Dean--who was amused that someone other than him had called his brother Sammy and gotten away with it-- snickered and said, “She’s right, Sam. Come on. Let’s hit the hay.”

Too tired to argue, the taller man dragged himself to the bed closest to Vivian with a resigned sigh. The two brothers continued talking for some short time after this, but it was all lost on Vivian who had begun to slip out of consciousness before the lights were even out.

*  
*  
*

_Vivian had been running for what seemed like days. Desperately trying to escape the endless hallway and the sneering man in her peripheral, Vivian was pushing herself well beyond what was considered normal physical breaking points. Eventually, Vivian hit a point too far beyond her physical limitations, and her body began to falter. Consequently, her legs gave out beneath her, sending her tumbling into an ivy-clad door. Leaning against the sturdy wooden door, she panted and gasped for air while her lungs screamed angrily at her, demanding a better plan. Despite the panic that muddled her mind, Vivian realized that she would find no end to this hallway._

_“Why don’t you go in the door?” A melodic but masculine voice sounded in her head._

_Although she could no longer see him, Vivian knew that the disembodied voice belonged to the man watching her. This set off every internal alarm-bell she had, but it seemed as though she had no other real options._

_Bracing herself with a couple of deep breaths, Vivian opened the door to find what almost looked like an upright, standing pool of water. It rippled and flowed gently within the confines of the doorframe, and light refracted softly against the liquid, creating a cold, steely glow around Vivian. It was mesmerizing to watch, but something about it called to grief hiding deep inside her bones._

_Within the pool, Vivian’s reflection slowly came into focus, however, this reflection seemed to be around seven or eight years old in age. The young girl had a busted lip and a purple, cut-up cheek. There were drops of blood staining the collar of her light pink dress, and her torn tights displayed her bruised and scuffed-up knees. Young Vivian held herself as though no one could see her tearful eyes or how she clearly was favoring one side of her body over the other. This image shattered the real Vivian’s heart. Forgetting the risks, she immediately reached out to her younger self in earnest while the younger girl mirrored the action._

_The moment their hands touched, Vivian was aggressively pulled into the pool by an unseen force. Her vision went completely pitch-black, and Vivian felt a point of tension around her. It was as though her body was being pushed through a wall of gelatin; Except, she could still breathe. This only lasted a moment, however, as the tension abruptly burst, and both Vivian’s vision and solid ground returned to her._


	6. Save a Horse, Kick a Horse Girl's Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivian and Sam continue to get to know each other, and Vivian loses her cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for canon typical sexual harassment

Vivian woke with a start, covered in a thin layer of sweat and her heart racing. Wanting to calm herself, she took a few deep breaths and tried to remember her dream but frustratingly drew a blank. After waiting some time, it became annoyingly clear to Vivian that although her heart rate had long returned to normal, she wasn’t going to fall back asleep any time soon. Angling her head up so she could see the clock by Sam’s bedside, Vivian groaned when she saw it read just shy of 3:30 am. Not keen to listen to Dean snoring softly for the next 3 to 5 hours, she decided to get some air.

Vivian had just sat down against the brick wall and was staring up at the night sky when her motel door quietly reopened and closed beside her.

“Can I join you?”

Startling a little, Vivian looked up to see Sam towering over her with a small smile.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?” Vivian said, cringing.

Shaking his head softly and sliding down beside her so that their shoulders touched lightly, Sam replied, “No, don’t worry. I couldn’t sleep. How about you? I thought you’d clocked out hours ago.”

Vivian hummed in affirmation. “Bad dreams woke me, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t remember them. Doesn’t matter now though.”

Sam nodded in understanding, and at that, the two both sat quietly breathing in the night air for some time until Sam suddenly broke the silence. “They’re my feelings.”

“I’m sorry?” Vivian glanced at him questioningly.

“The feelings you had. The ones you said weren’t yours. I think they’re mine.”

“Oh,” Vivian said, realizing what Sam meant. “I know.”

“You knew? Since when?” Sam said, his brows furrowing.

Vivian scrunched her nose up, trying to remember. “The car ride, I think? I mean, I didn’t know for sure, but it just made sense to me given the circumstances.”

Sam sighed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I can feel yours too, you know.”

Vivian’s eyes widened in shock. “You can?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, not unkindly.

“Gods, I’m sorry.” Vivian said, her head falling into her hands.

Sam chuckled lightly. “Wait, did you just say gods?”

Vivian’s head popped back up, and her cheeks were fully flushed as she began to laugh full-heartedly. Despite not knowing _why_ she was laughing, Sam found Vivian’s bell-like laughter to be contagious and soon they were both in stitches.

Wheezing out between his own peals of laughter, Sam said, “I don’t understand! What’s so funny?”

Still chuckling as she wiped away the tears that had accumulated in her eyes, Vivian finally responded, “So my mom is Atheist, and when I was growing up, we were living in a pretty religious area. A lot of our neighbors were apparently pretty terrible to my mom for not taking me to church. So, to antagonize them, she started saying gods instead of god. Me being so young, it just kind of stuck in my speech pattern which obviously only further antagonized the neighbors.” Letting out a snicker, Vivian continued. “The jig is up though, I suppose. Too bad I can’t tell her that our haughty neighbors were right all along.”

Sam, having finally recovered, let out a good-natured laugh, “I don’t know if I’d say that exactly. It sounds like they deserved it anyways. So, what about you then? It’s honestly kind of baffling to me how casually you accepted what’s out there and what Dean and I do.”

Vivian cringed. She hoped this wouldn’t come up, but with Sam looking at her so openly, she had to share something. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure it has processed yet, so the jury is still out on how well I handle all of this. That said, I…uh. I didn’t have the most conventional experiences growing up. I’ve seen a lot of things that didn’t make sense, and I’ve always known that reality, or my reality at least, was relative. I’d imagine it’s a lot easier to sit with information like this when you’ve spent almost your entire life taking most everything with a grain of salt.”

Vivian could tell that Sam wanted to know more based on the intent look on his face, but he didn’t press her on it. Instead, he looked up at the dark sky above them and admitted almost to himself, “I know I don’t know you, but I feel like I do…like I have for years.” Sam cast a sideways glance at Vivian but continued when he found nothing but kindness and encouragement in her gaze. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, and we can chalk it up to the hex or whatever if you want, but being near you is a relief somehow. I’ve made mistakes; mistakes that will get a lot of people killed, and I’ll never be able to undo that or be forgiven. I don’t _want_ to be forgiven; I don’t deserve it. But the guilt… it’s already killing me. Being near you… Focusing on you… It makes that all go away for a while.” 

Nudging him gently with her shoulder, Vivian smiled at Sam. “Supernatural emotional methadone, huh?”

Sam gave her a weak laugh in response, and Vivian winked at him before continuing. “No, I feel it too. Hex or not, we should take the wins as they come, yeah? So, congratulations. You’ve just won a new, old friend.”

Sam smiled wryly at that.

“And look, Sammy. I don’t know what happened or what mistakes you made, but I don’t need to. You’re a good man. I can tell. Whatever the future holds, it’s not your fault.”

While Vivian spoke, Sam closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the bricks. His breathing grew shallow and his voice hoarse, evidence of the emotions raging within him. “You don’t know that.”

Resting her head gently on Sam’s shoulder, Vivian replied simply, “Yeah, I do.”

The conversation between them died once more-- the two of them each quietly thinking over things the other had said-- when Sam huffed a small laugh.

“What?” Vivian asked, lifting her head.

“You called me Sammy, twice. Normally only Dean gets to do that.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Alright, Sammy.” Vivian replied with a yawn, once again returning her head to its place on Sam’s shoulder where she eventually fell asleep.

*  
*  
*

Stretching languidly, Vivian couldn’t help the satisfied mew that escaped her lips. The sofa was softer than she remembered. It was larger too. It then dawned on her that she had no memory of returning to bed that night. Immediately shooting straight up and looking around the room wildly, Vivian’s eyes fell upon one amused-looking Sam Winchester who was back at the coffee table in the corning.

“Morning Viv,” Sam said, with his eyes dancing mischievously and a smile pulling at his lips.

“Sam.” Vivian said lowly, “Why am I in your bed?”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “I told you to take the bed.”

“Sam! You did not carry me in here!” Vivian squeaked.

Sam laughed in disbelief, “It wouldn’t have been the first time!”

Upon seeing the daggers that Vivian was glaring at him, Sam raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay! No, I didn’t. I woke you up to come back inside, and you crawled into bed on autopilot, I guess. You just looked so comfortable, and I would’ve felt guilty having you move.”

Giving Sam a long, hard stare and noticing the empty coffee cups and dark circles under his eyes, Vivian said pointedly, “So, where did you sleep?”

Sam’s smile faltered.

“What the hell, Sam.” Vivian sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What?” Sam responded, suddenly looking very sheepish.

Frustrated, Vivian exclaimed, “Sleeping isn’t optional, Sam! That was such a stubborn, bone-headed thing to do! Next time, you don’t say _Oh, I guess sleeping is canceled. Try again later!_ You tell me to get my ass out of bed or to move over. Gods!”

Taking a breath, Vivian finally noticed Sam’s shocked but guilty expression and immediately regretted her reaction. “Sam, I’m sorry. That was too much. You were being sweet.” She sighed, “My nerves are a bit shot to be honest, and I know there isn’t a non-zero chance that we’ll find ourselves in some type of danger so adding sleep deprivation to the mix felt like an immediate stressor.”

“It’s alright, Vivian.” Sam replied with a tight but understanding smile before abruptly changing the topic. “So, I think Dean is warming up to you.”

Vivian, just realizing that the older brother was no longer in his bed, let out a huff of disbelief. “Oh, really? How’s that?”

“Well, he’s taking care of your cell and wallet right now while he stocks up on some supplies, and he grabbed you fresh clothes. That’s as close to an apology as you’ll probably get.”

“Huh, Okay then.” Vivian said with surprise.

“He should be back any minute. Once he is, we’ll all go grab some breakfast and then wait back here for Bobby.”

Right on cue, Dean then waltzed through the door. His eyes falling on Vivian--who was still in Sam’s bed--, he said with a smirk, “Great, Sleeping Beauty is up. Now let’s go. I’m starving.” Dean then turned back around and promptly headed out the door.

Breakfast was largely uneventful. The main highlights had been Dean nearly choking on his food when Vivian explained that her choice of a “chick breakfast” was because she didn’t eat meat or dairy due to a mix of medical and ethical reasons and a quick stop inside a mom and pop grocery store on the way back to the motel. It had a small clothing section, and Vivian had delighted in being able to wear “real people” clothes again. The small grocery store also happened to have a small local branch of Vivian’s bank that had allowed her to immediately replace her debit card using her social security number and billing address. Dean had laughed at this and said with bravado that he and Sammy should thank minimum security banks everywhere for funding the family business.

Not long after returning to the motel, there came a surprise knock on the door. Sam looked at Dean from his patented place at the coffee table and quirked an eyebrow. “It’s too early to be Bobby?”

Giving Sam a nod from his seat on the motel bed, Dean said warningly, “Vivian, get away from the door.”

Both brothers then immediately brandished their weapons while Vivian quickly backed herself into the furthest corner. Once Vivian was safely tucked away, Sam opened the door which revealed a young, mousy-blonde woman who began gasping at the sight of him.

“You okay, lady?” Sam asked, confusion etched across his face.

The woman looked dramatically at the point of tears. “Sam, is it really you?” she gasped.

At this, Dean let out a loud groan, saying exasperatedly, “For the love of god, Sam. Again? Seriously?”

Wincing, heat rushed to Vivian’s face. She _really_ hoped this wasn’t how she came across just yesterday. She also felt surprisingly upset at the idea of more than one person being connected to Sam like her.

Vivian particularly disliked the idea of _this_ woman also being connected to Sam. There was something off about her energy. It was repressed and fragmented with big patches of darkness interwoven between the major fragments. Vivian didn’t trust her.

The woman then took a step partially into the motel room, crowding into Sam’s personal space. Placing a hand on his chest, she looked up into his face with awe. “And…you’re so firm.”

The discomfort and confusion was clear on Sam’s face as he asked, “Uhm…Do I know you?”

Before Vivian even realized what she was doing, she had crossed the room and yanked the door all the way open, glaring something fierce. “Hey! Horse girl! Why don’t we try this _super fun_ thing called respecting people’s personal space and cool it with the unwanted touching. Yeah?”

Vivian then gave the woman her brightest, most murderous smile. She could hear Dean masking his surprised laughter behind a cough and could feel Sam’s shock rolling over her, but she kept her eyes unwaveringly fixed on the woman before her; The woman’s eyes had widened in surprise and her smile had faltered somewhat, but it was not near enough to sooth Vivian’s bristling emotions.

The woman stared at Vivian with her brow furrowing in confusion for a few moments before she said while sounding less sure of herself, “I don’t know you.”

Sam cleared his throat and instinctively angled his body protectively in front of Vivian’s. “I’m sorry; Why are you here?”

The woman immediately turned her attention back to Sam. Her enthusiasm returning in full, she gushed, “You don’t know me, but I know you. You’re Sam Winchester.”

The woman then looked to Dean and paused, cocking her head to the side with confusion and disappointment. “And you’re…not what I pictured.”

Giving a bright smile to Sam, the woman brushed past him into the center of the motel room. “I’m Becky. I read all about you guys. Mr. Edlund told me where you were.”

“Chuck?” Dean asked, immediately on his feet and coming forward.

Sam quickly pulled Vivian away from the door and shut it behind him, remaining firmly by her side afterwards. Vivian tried to ignore the warmth that rushed to her skin where his hands had been and the heat of him beside her with little success.

“He’s got a message, but he’s being watched.” Becky said intently, enjoying having both brothers’ attention on her. “Angels! Nice change up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old.”

Vivian quirked an irritated and questioning brow at Dean who stood across from her. He shared with her an annoyed grimace before crossing his arms and turning his attention back to Becky.

“Right. Just, um. What’s the message?” Sam said awkwardly, trying to get Becky back on track.

Becky responded dramatically, closing her eyes. “He had a vision. The Michael Sword is on Earth. The angels lost it.”

Dean’s head leaned forward. “The Michael Sword?”

“Becky, does he know where it is?” Sam urged.

Beside him, Vivian stood rocking back and forth on her heels. Becky’s energy made her feel like there was a hive of buzzing bees at the base of her skull, and it was really starting to piss her off.

“In a castle, on a hill made of 42 dogs.” Becky replied breathlessly.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Vivian wordlessly went to the bathroom and began rummaging through her things for the Advil she was _so glad_ she had bought earlier in the day. She returned to the main room just in time to hear Becky utter “ _I memorized every word for you_ ” while extending her hand onto Sam’s chest once again.

“Gods, Becky! Are you serious?! Back off!” Vivian raged, slamming the Advil bottle down beside her with an audible crack. “I don’t care what kind of ass-backwards sex education you had growing up. If I catch you with any more of this sexual harassment crap, you won’t be walking away in one piece. Do you understand me?”

The blonde woman stumbled a few steps back and stared at Vivian in shock. “You’re serious. You’re threatening me!”

At this response, Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, ushering Becky to the door. “Alright, if that’s all you got…?”

Becky gave Dean a blank stare.

“Awesome, thanks for your help then Becca.” Dean continued.

“It’s Becky!” she whined.

“Awesome, thanks for your help, _Becky_. It’s been a blast, but now it’s time to go.” Dean said, his tone leaving little room for argument. 

Becky only managed to get out a “ _But!_ ” before the door was promptly shut in her face. Spinning back around, Dean’s gaze shifted back and forth from Sam and Vivian before his face pulled into a smirk. “Vivian, for a second there, I thought you might rip Becky’s hand off and beat her with it.”

Rubbing her temples, Vivian plopped down on Sam’s bed with an exasperated groan. Sitting down gently next to her, Sam nudged Vivian with his shoulder and gave a teasing smile. “How’s my hero doing?”

Vivian chuckled weakly. “I’m sorry I lost my cool like that. Her behavior was just so fucked!”

“Nah, don’t be.” Sam told her with a grin. “It was kind of badass.”

With a wink, Sam then pushed himself off the bed. “I’m going to start researching the info Chuck sent over. Maybe I’ll figure some of it out before Bobby gets here. Speaking of, Dean—”

“Already on it.” Dean responded, flipping out his phone and heading outside.

“Do you want some help with research?” Vivian asked, smiling up at Sam.

*  
*  
*

Sam had been surprised by Vivian’s offer but had been thankful for the help. Originally, they had gone through lore together, bouncing ideas off one another as to what the riddle could mean. However, Vivian kept catching Sam yawn, and there was only one laptop, so Vivian eventually convinced Sam to catch up on some rest while she looked on her own for a bit. It took a moment to adjust, but Vivian found that after the pointers Sam had given her on what types of information to look for, it felt pretty similar to doing preliminary research for her lab and quickly found a rhythm.

When Dean had returned to the motel, he observed the scene before him with not a small amount of surprise. “How did you wrestle the computer away from Sam?”

“What do you mean? I just told him to take a break while I do some of the research.”

Dean scoffed, “You offered to be on research duty? Damn, another nerd.”

Taking a brief look over all the materials Vivian had found, Dean let out an impressed whistle. “You found all of this just while I was gone? Not bad, Einstein.”

“Thanks, jockstrap.” Vivian replied, flashing Dean a cheeky grin.

Dean chuckled and shook his head a little before a serious look fell over his face. “Listen, kid. How well can you handle yourself if shit goes down?”

Vivian’s smile faltered. “I…uh—”

Dean cut her off, “Alright. So, you can’t then. Look, this fire you got is great, but as long as you’re rolling with us, it won’t be damn near enough. Now I don’t love the idea of taking you with us, but seeing how I don’t have the damnedest idea what’s got you all tied up to Sammy and leaving you here is a death sentence, it doesn’t look like I have much of a choice. That said, I also don’t want you to end up just another body to burn by coming with us so you’re going to learn how to handle yourself. Nonnegotiable. Weapons with me, fighting with Sammy. Whatever. Maybe you’ll go on runs together. He loves that crap. I don’t care, but you’re going to learn this stuff. You got me?”

Feeling her respect for Dean increase because of the way he leveled with her, Vivian gave him a determined nod.

Dean cocked a half smile in response. “Awesome. Now do me a favor and wake Sammy for me, would ya? Bobby gets here in an hour, and he’s got to do his hair. Something tells me he’d like waking up to your face a hell of a lot more than mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed the beginnings of some fluffy goodness between Sam and Vivian! And Vivian's right kiddos, consent is everything~
> 
> As always, I would love to hear what you think of the story so far whether that's constructive criticism or baseline impressions!  
> I hope you & your loved ones are staying happy and healthy! 
> 
> Oh also, if anyone is curious- The chapter title is a reference to a truly terrible country music song. Though to be fair, I think most if not all country music (excluding Dolly Parton's) is terrible so my opinion probably doesn't carry much weight


	7. A Rock and a Hard Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: significant (but canon typical) fam conflict and reliving traumatic memories pertaining to extreme childhood bullying & violence + brief mention of creepy/ predatory behavior of adult authority figure

Vivan didn’t know what to expect when she anticipated Bobby’s arrival, but it certainly hadn’t been obsidian eyes and the familiar features of a Dementor-like creature twisting in and out of view. Despite being seemingly stalked by this particular type of creature much of her life, Vivian was still shocked and alarmed by the sight. Letting out a frightened gasp, she tripped over herself, knocking over a chair in the process. 

Although the loud and unexpected noise startled both brothers, Bobby simply looked at Vivian with amusement in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong with you, girl? Never seen an old redneck before?” he said teasingly, letting out a gravelly chuckle.

He then shot her a comforting smile-- which looked innocent enough on Bobby’s features but positively insidious on the dark creature’s-- and turned his attention back to Sam and Dean, who were eyeing Vivian with varying levels of confusion and concern.

Unsure what to do, Vivian forced a smile and squeaked out an apology as she rushed to pick up the fallen chair. Once all the men resumed greeting each other, she quietly snuck to the corner of the room furthest from Bobby-- an action missed by none-- and lost herself to the panic of whether the monster she saw was a hallucination and what she should do about it all. Vivian had realized that she would likely have confronted this issue eventually, but she hadn’t expected it to be _so soon._ She hadn’t expected it to be like _this_! 

Suddenly, the sound of confrontation pulled Vivian from her stress-addled mind and fear clenched her heart as she watched Bobby stalk towards Sam angrily. 

“You’re damn right you didn’t listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant,” Bobby said furiously.

“I’m sorry,” Sam responded dejectedly, the guilt and regret painfully obvious from the expression on his face and the way his shoulders hung heavy.

“Oh, yeah?” Bobby snarled, “You’re sorry you started Armageddon? This kind of thing don’t get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle, we pull this off… I want you to lose my number. You understand me?”

Fear momentarily forgotten, Vivian watched with shock and heartbreak as Sam gave Bobby a stoic nod despite his grief being so strong and severe that it threatened to overwhelm Vivian to the point of tears.

A few tense seconds passed before Sam then said hoarsely, “There’s an old church nearby. Maybe I’ll go read some of the lore books there.” 

Not missing a beat, the older hunter quickly responded with no less anger in his voice than when he’d started, “Yeah, you do that.”

Frozen where she stood, Vivian frantically looked from Sam to Dean as Sam quickly exited the motel room and was horrified when Dean guiltily refused to meet her gaze. Realizing what she had to do, Vivian quickly barreled out of the motel room, chasing after Sam. 

Luckily for Vivian, Sam hadn’t gotten far. It seemed that despite the emotional turmoil he was in, Sam had still thought to stop for Vivian in order to avoid causing her any pain. This didn’t mean, however, that he would wait for Vivian to catch up entirely as he continued on towards the church as soon as she was in sight. 

Vivian’s feet smacking down hard on the pavement, it didn’t take long for her to catch up to Sam, but she did have to maintain a slight jog in order to try and match the brisk pace and long strides he had. Desperate to tell him what she thought she might know, Vivian repeatedly called out to Sam, asking him to slow down or stop, but he pushed on silently. Feeling chaotic emotions rapidly pushing her sense of urgency and anxiety higher and higher, Vivian realized she was _drowning_ in Sam’s emotions which meant he was too. Sprinting in front of him, Vivian threw her arms out haltingly and demanded that he stop with the most authoritative tone she could muster.

Freezing in his tracks, Vivian could see the exact moment Sam came back to himself by the way his glazed eyes suddenly widened with shock, as he took in his current surroundings. When Sam’s eyes finally locked with Vivian’s, the two stood there staring at each other, chests heaving, before Vivian wordlessly threw her arms around Sam without another thought. Feeling him stiffen beneath her, Vivian feared she had misstepped when Sam then returned her hug with a bone-crushing force, lifting her off the ground with ease.

Despite the potential urgency the situation held, Vivian allowed Sam to hold her silently for as long as he needed. She told herself that it was to give Sam his moment to recover, but truthfully, it was also because Vivian needed to prepare herself for the vulnerable conversation ahead of her. 

Slowly, Sam’s grasp on Vivian began to loosen, and she eventually slid to the ground. Realizing that now was the time, she desperately wished that she could spend just another moment in the solace of Sam’s strong arms before she risked the friendship growing between them. Before this experience, she couldn’t fathom caring so deeply about the opinion of someone she barely knew, and yet, here she was.

Hesitantly raising her gaze from her feet on solid ground to look at Sam, Vivian found him staring at her with an intensity she had been unprepared for. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he started hoarsely.

“Sam, no--”

Cutting her off as his agitated state became more obvious, Sam exclaimed anxiously, “You shouldn’t even be caught up in this mess! Bobby’s got the right idea. Vivian, the second you’re not tied to me, you need to get as far away from me as you can.”

Rapidly shaking her head, Vivian reached for Sam with wide eyes, willing words to come though she had none. 

Recoiling away with tears in his eyes, Sam said warningly, “There’s something wrong with me, Vi. Part of me is evil, and it is going to get you killed.” 

Grief contorting his features, Sam suddenly stepped into Vivian’s space and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Ever so softly placing a kiss on Vivian’s forehead, he whispered brokenly, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to save you. I don’t know how to save anyone.” 

Dumbstruck, Vivian watched Sam take a step back from her, then two, before turning to continue on towards the church--as if she wasn’t going to have to follow him right after-- which was now in sight.

“Sammy, wait! Bobby is a monster!” Vivian blurted out in a panic.

Freezing once more, Sam’s body went rigid, but he didn’t turn to face Vivian as he responded darkly, “No, Vivian. He’s not. I’m the monster.”

“No! You don’t understand. I saw his face! He’s a monster! Not you! You have to listen to me!” Vivian told him desperately. 

With his back still turned to her, Sam responded coldly, “Vivian, stop. I’m sorry, but you don’t know what you’re talking about. Just leave it alone.”

The compulsion instantly taking effect, Vivian silently followed after Sam with a few stray tears running down her face. She could feel how Sam’s unbridled pain and desperation for there to be an alternative explanation when he knew there was none quickly gave way to an unspecified anger and continued self-loathing. 

Anger of her own flooded through her veins, and Vivian berated herself for not speaking earlier. She had been too cowardly and selfish, and now there was nothing she could do about it. Entering the old church and sitting with a wide berth between her and Sam, Vivian prayed to all the gods she hadn’t believed in that she was simply delusioned after all.

*  
*  
*

Vivian stared blankly at an old text before her, anxiously considering how long she and Sam had been at the old church. While she didn’t have a clock, she was sure it had been close to an hour, and with each passing minute, her fear and guilt for what her cowardice might have cost them grew. Looking over at Sam who was quietly paging through an old text of his own on the other side of the pews, it dawned on Vivian that there may be another option. 

Deciding to test her theory, Vivian’s suspicions were almost instantaneously confirmed by a blinding wave of pain that attempted to force her into submission. Realizing that her moment to prepare and brace herself for the pain had passed, Vivian struggled arduously with the compulsion until she was finally able to push through for a moment. 

Sweat beading down her face, Vivian’s body shook with the strain as she spoke. “Sam, I think there is something wrong with Bobby, and I don’t think Dean is safe. I am going back, and I really hope you come with me.”

Across the room, Sam started at her with shock as she stood up on shaky legs. Each step towards the door brought on a new level of pain, but Vivian pressed on.

“Vivian, what the hell!? Stop!” Sam exclaimed, horrified.

Feeling the force of the compulsions double down with the addition of this new demand, Vivian’s legs froze traitorously against her will. Willing her legs to move of their own accord and pushing back with all the strength she could muster, Vivian eventually reached the door of the church; Anything Sam might’ve been saying was lost to a raging war within Vivian as her sense of survival and self-preservation begged for reprevieve, while the rest of her demanded she hold out just a little longer, push just a little further. 

As she reached the exit and began to push on the rusty, old door handle, Vivian’s vision started to blacken, and she felt something warm trickling down her face. A sluggish hand clumsily swatting at her face revealed shades of bright red, and Vivian knew she didn’t have much time left. Barreling onwards, Vivian made it two or three steps into the church courtyard before the world spun out from underneath her. Suddenly finding herself lying face up in the grass, Vivian breathed a sigh of relief as everything went dark. 

*  
*  
*

_Vivian’s eyes scanned the new world around her, and she found it was seemingly more stable than the last. She was outside on a school playground with children running around freely. The world—and Vivian’s body—didn’t blur or distort, but all of the light and colors were muted._

_Searching for some sort of context, Vivian quickly locked onto a circle of children huddled around in a secluded area of the playground. Recognition and horror burned through her body as she raced over and confirmed her suspicions, finding her younger self on her knees in the center of the circle. The group of children—primarily made up of slightly older boys—laughed as they poured dozens of marbles, Legos, and other miscellaneous toys on the ground around her. The emotionality of the moment heightening the stress, both Vivians agonized over the need to count the fallen toys._

_The real Vivian fell to her knees alongside her younger self with a cry, “Stop! She’s just a little girl!”_

_Vivian then reached for a pile of marbles to begin counting them, but distressingly, her hands went through them like smoke. Frantically, she started clawing at where the marbles stood unmoving; Each time, Vivian’s hands would pass through them, and the marbles dissolved into wisps that only returned to form when she removed her hands. Simultaneously, the children’s laughter grew in volume around her and could only be drowned out by the intensifying strength of her compulsions._

_“This is only a memory, Pet,” the melodic voice said._

_The world around Vivian slowed, and the man from before suddenly appeared, learning against a tree in front of her with a look of false patience and sympathy._

_“I have to count them,” Vivian replied brokenly._

_“Vivi! I thought you were past this! Though it’s no matter, I suppose.” The man continued with a passive wave of his hand, “There. Now you don’t, and we can have a nice chat.”_

_With no regard for the children in the circle, the man walked directly through them to Vivian in a puff of smoke. Unceremoniously dragging her to her feet, the man led Vivian back over to his tree._

_“What are you doing?” She asked, her voice quivering._

_He gave her an odd look, as though the answer was obvious, before responding with a shrug, “I want to see what happens next without interruption.”_

_The scene before her then began to unfold at its regular speed. Young Vivian had been getting increasingly more distraught as one boy in particular was repeatedly kicking away her piles and scattering more toys. Vivian watched in sorrow as the agonized, young Vivian rose to her feet and screamed, “STOP!” While young Vivian’s face was obscured by the boy in front of her, the strength and defiance in her tone was clear._

_The young boy briefly looked back at his peers in alarm before returning his attention back to young Vivian and calling her a freak. As he began advancing towards young Vivian, the real Vivian cast her eyes down with grief. She knew what came next, and it was not something she wanted to see._

_Apparently, this did not sit well with the man next to her, who then said authoritatively, “No. Watch what they did to you.”_

_Much to Vivian’s horror, her head rose by a compulsion even stronger than Sam’s had ever been, and she looked just in time to see all the children begin to kick young Vivian brutally while she lay there on the ground in the fetal position, crying out horribly._

_In stark contrast to the tone of the scene unfolding before them, the man beside her spoke calmly and without emotion, “Such savagery and senseless violence. To have such a beautiful creature in their midst and to respond like so. It’s just further proof how wrong Father was about humans. How were we supposed to protect them when the greatest threat to them has always been themselves?”_

_Speechless, Vivian stood there trembling as she watched and relived every cracked rib and bruising stretch of internal bleeding young Vivian got that day. Eventually, the children cleared away, leaving a broken young Vivian alone on the concrete, waiting for someone to find her._

_With a sob, Vivian turned to the man and asked, “Why are you doing this?”_

_Not even bothering to look at Vivian, the man’s gaze remained curiously fixated on young Vivian. “I’m learning about my investment, Pet.”_

_Suddenly, the world rapidly reassembled to a new scene, a new memory. Together, the two flew through a wide variety of Vivian’s memories. Some were good, but the man was very clearly more interested in those that were bad. He would occasionally make statements or ask questions and compel answers, but largely, the two watched in silence._

_Finally, the two found themselves in a guidance counselor’s office. Vivian knew which memory they were in immediately. Although nothing had really happened, or so she thought, this particular moment had stayed with her for years._

_A young Vivian sat in a chair before her guidance counselor, about eleven or twelve years old. At this time in her life, her hallucinations had been widely addressed and enforced as simply that: Hallucinations. As a result, young Vivian sat quietly motionless in her chair as she tried to ignore the bright yellow eyes, long dark claws, and fangs that protruded out when the guidance counselor gave her a wolfish grin. Vivian watched young Vivian blink rapidly, knowing that young Vivian was trying to expedite the moment when the normal, human face would shift back into view._

_The guidance counselor then walked around to the front of the desk and sat down, looking at her intently, “You can see me, can’t you? For what I really am? Curious little thing, you are. I can hear your tiny heart beating from here.” The guidance counselor gave a sigh and muttered something indistinguishable before he continued. “I’ve been so good these last few years. It’s just so hard sometimes, and you… I’ve never smelled anyone like you.” As he spoke, the guidance counselor had begun to lean forward with a dangerous look in his eye, and his fangs grew sharper and more menacing._

_Suddenly, the school bell rang, and the guidance counselor sat back. In this moment, his face returned to one of a completely human visage. He murmured with a predatory smile, “I guess we’ll have to finish this conversation another time.” Then, he softly reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind young Vivian’s ear before saying quietly, “Go on, then.”_

_During this exchange, young Vivian had sat there, wide-eyed and barely breathing. Now, however, she wasted no time as she scrambled from her chair and hurriedly made her way to the door._

_“Oh, and Vivian?” the guidance counselor called._

_Young Vivian froze, her back to him as she stared at the door that led back into the safety of the school hallway._

_“Do start cooperating with your teacher and turning your homework in on time. I don’t want to have to call you back in here for more late assignments or disruptive behavior.”_

_Without a word, young Vivian scurried into the hallway, and the memory froze. The real Vivian was in a daze, trapped in her pounding heart when the blond man interrupted her thoughts. “I actually heard about this incident. I thought I might have to intervene, but a hunter actually got to the wolf first.”_

_Coming back to herself, Vivian asked cautiously, “A wolf?”_

_“Yes, a pureblood werewolf, my darling Pet. He had been in so-called ‘recovery’, but that would not have lasted regardless of if he’d caught your scent. They’re an infestation to be dealt with, the lot of them.”_

_“But…You said you would have intervened? How would you have known? Who are you?”_

_“Oh Vivi, I’m hurt you don’t already know. You’re smarter than that, pumpkin,” the man said with a showman’s smile._

_Vivian responded slowly. She knew instinctively in her heart who the man before her was, but her mind desperately did not want it to be true. “You’re the Devil, aren’t you?”_

_“Bingo! Though, I prefer Lucifer,” he responded enthusiastically. “I knew you could figure it out, sweetheart.”_

_Feeling herself shake a bit, Vivian took a few steadying breaths. “Why would you have intervened? Why do you care about me?”_

_Lucifer scoffed, “Because you’re very special, Pet! Don’t sell yourself short. I paid quite a high price to ensure you’d be at my side when the time came. While I could bring you back from the dead if need be, that would be an unnecessary and complicated effort. I’d rather just protect my assets.”_

_“I- I don’t understand!” Vivian exclaimed, starting to gasp anxiously._

_“Relax,” Lucifer demanded coldly._

_Vivian’s body immediately complied although some part of Vivian seethed against the zombified sense of calm within her._

_Then, Lucifer took a few steps towards her and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear, much like the guidance counselor in the last memory had. “We can talk some more the next time I visit-in here,” He tapped a finger lightly on her forehead. “We do have a hell of a lot of memories to get through! Unfortunately for us,” Lucifer said, cocking his head to the side as though he was listening to something far away, “I’m needed somewhere else. I’d tell you to say ‘hi’ to those surly Winchester brothers, but you’re not going to remember any of this so what’s the point? Though I must say, I am excited to meet you all in person. It could just be the fact that Sammy was destined to be my vessel, but I really feel a connection to the guy! He seems like the person you’d play a mean game of bridge with on a nice Tuesday afternoon after he and all the other moms from the block drop the kiddos off at soccer practice. I don’t know! Anyways, it’s been lovely talking to you. Sweet dreams, Pet.”_

_Lucifer then placed a gentle kiss on Vivian’s forehead and vanished out of sight. Despite the softness of the act, it sent a shiver down her spine and left a queasy feeling in her stomach. As the world started to fade around her, Vivian was left with one anxious thought rolling around in her head: What could the Devil possibly want with her?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a bit over a month going by without an update guys! It's been quite a time since I posted last; I graduated college, got sick & had a brief hospital stay (nothing serious but not fun & time consuming nonetheless), and then got slammed at work! I work at a nonprofit whose work is super relevant with everything going on right now, but I'm hoping that since I'm not balancing school at the same time anymore, I'll have more writing time available. 
> 
> Also! I want to give a huge shoutout to DramaJen89. We've recently started beta'ing for each other, and it has been so lovely!! She is such a kind soul and an awesome writer. Be sure to check out her Sam/ofc story Psychics, Soulmates, and Destiny!
> 
> As always, I hope you and all your loved ones are safe, happy, and healthy!  
> Finally, a friendly PSA to donate to your local BLM chapter and/or bailfund and also wash! those! hands!


	8. Angel Condoms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: panic attack, suicidal thoughts

Slowly coming to, Vivian could hear Sam speaking to her in the far reaches of her mind. Realizing that the pain she currently felt was slightly less than before, Vivian surmised with a dull triumph that Sam must’ve decided to go back to the motel with her. This sense of triumph, however, was short lived as adrenaline and a woeful mix of terror and anguish quickly had Vivian shooting up with wide and unseeing eyes, gasping wildly. 

“What happened?? Where did he go? What did he _do_ to me?!” Vivian cried out, not really seeing the world around her. 

Slowly, thin blades of grass started to come into focus for Vivian, and then all at once, those blades of grass were all she could see, in vivid detail. Unable to move her gaze, Vivian distantly heard Sam tensely rambling through an endless string of questions and concerns.

_“Viv, are you okay? What man? You’ve been passed out for a few minutes now, but nothings happened. Oh god. Do you mean me? Am I the man? I don’t know what to do! What do you need?!”_

Vivian tried to think, but she suddenly couldn’t remember the man she had just asked about. She couldn’t remember anything from after she had passed out for that matter, but that wasn’t right. Something happened. It had to have; She just knew it!

As Vivian thought about it, a renewed sense of terror washed over her. She felt like a live wire that had been stripped down, leaving her raw and vulnerable; Tiny shocks of fear shot down her limbs as her sympathetic nervous system quickly geared up and the rest of her gave way to the age old battle between ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ responses. Ultimately, neither response won out as they were both decimated by the lesser known ‘freeze’. Overwhelmed by the sensation rapidly overtaking her, Vivian suddenly found herself on her hands and knees alternating between fits of coughing and dry-heaving, with an alarmed and panicked Sam trying unsuccessfully to manage the situation.

Finally, when the fits and emotional onslaught began to subside, Vivian fell weakly into Sam’s torso, looking up sheepishly into his fearful hazel eyes. She could see all the questions in Sam’s gaze, but she couldn’t explain what had just happened; It was even worse knowing how helpless Sam felt experiencing that second-hand through the emotional link. 

Wanting to put him at ease, Vivian gave Sam a shaky smile and leaned into him gently. It didn’t go much further than that, however, because any attempt to speak was replaced by a few pained coughs instead. 

Regardless, Sam instantly let out a ragged sigh of relief while scooping Vivian into his arms and exclaiming hoarsely, “Jesus, Vivian! I thought you were going to get yourself killed!”

Carrying her to a quiet space with a little more privacy, Sam slid down against an old stone wall of the church and simply held Vivian close for a few moments. Finally pulling back, he looked into her eyes searchingly.

Apparently unhappy with what he saw there, Sam’s expression hardened as he exclaimed harshly, “What the hell were you thinking!? What is wrong with you!?”

Cringing, Vivian knew there wasn’t much she could say to make him feel better. She made the choice she needed to make-- despite the unexpected reaction she had at the end-- and she was certainly not going to tell him about the compulsions to do what he said. Still, they needed to get to Dean if this whole stunt was going to be worth it. 

Opening her mouth to speak, the attempt once again sent her traitorous body into another series of coughing fits. Looking at Sam with pleading, desperate eyes, Sam’s expression softened.

“Okay, I get it. You thought you had to.” Sam said, pulling Vivian close once more so he could sooth her until the aftershocks of her fit subsided.

After some time, Vivian put her hand on Sam’s chest and pushed back lightly while quietly rasping out that they needed to get to Dean.

Sam looked at Vivian carefully as he gently brushed some hair out of her face. “Viv, what has you so convinced that Dean is in danger?”

Vivian had to fight her throat for every syllable, but all she managed was ‘black eyes’ before she began coughing again.

Sam, however, now had a look of fear as he seized Vivian’s shoulders. “What?! Vivian, are you sure?”

Nodding, Vivian replied roughly, “Yes. They were black, and his face looked like something out of a horror film.”

Upon hearing Vivian’s response, Sam’s expression of fear rapidly shifted to confusion before his eyes lit up with shock and recognition. 

Removing one hand from her shoulder and giving Vivian’s hand a gentle squeeze, Sam asked slowly but not unkindly, “Vivian, could this have anything to do with you taking your reality with a grain of salt?”

Vivian’s eyes welled up instantly, and her face burned with embarrassment and frustration as she responded pleadingly, “But what if it’s not?”

Sam gave her a look of understanding and sympathy, but Vivian just knew there was pity behind it as he murmured softly, “Don’t worry. I’ll show you that everything is okay. Do you think you can walk with my help?”

No longer able to meet his gaze, Vivian simply nodded and allowed Sam to help her up. Despite leaning on him heavily, Vivian’s legs began to give out within seconds so Sam gingerly wrapped his arm around her waist so that he could support the bulk of her weight as they walked. 

During the walk back, Sam tried a few times to reassure or comfort Vivian, but she wanted to hear none of it; Her lack of responses made that clear, so eventually he stopped trying.

At some point, her embarrassment and frustration had shifted into a defensive and defiant anger.

Vivian knew it was cold of her to shut him down and steel herself like that, but she also knew that things were different between them now. She had been down this road too many times to not anticipate the ableism that likely stared down any type of relationship they could have possibly had. 

Vivian had spent almost 20 years learning how to manage her health, and she wished she had learned how to do that mainly for herself. But it was far more accurate to say that she had learned how to manage it in a way that made it less inconvenient or prominent for others. 

Vivian had spent almost 20 years honing her love for knowledge and learning into a craft that she felt mattered; Where her research could improve lives, and yet, those accomplishments always fell away when others learned about her. Vivian felt cursed to be always on unequal footing or infantilized and invalidated, assuming the person stuck around at all. 

Something was different about Sam, but she couldn’t let herself hope that he would be different in this. Vivian couldn’t bear the idea of him doing any of that, but she knew it would be even worse if she let herself believe just for a second that this time would be different. 

And the thought of him talking down to her or pitying her after everything she had just chosen to endure, after everything she was likely to endure? It made her blood boil. 

Vivian would rather suffer in silence than take the risk.

*  
*  
*

Walking back onto the motel grounds, Sam cast a sideways glance towards Vivian. He could feel the anxiety-- and a surprising amount of anger-- coming off of her in spades, which was ironic considering he was the one who needed to face the father-figure who had just disowned him; Not her. Granted, her anxiety made sense given what she apparently thought was happening.

Frustrated, Sam clenched and unclenched the fist that wasn’t holding Vivian up by her waist. He didn't understand why she hadn’t just talked to him earlier, instead of pulling that half-baked stunt and nearly getting herself killed! And now, ever since his revelation about her, Vivian couldn’t even stand to look at him. Just like everyone else in his life, he should’ve known that she’d quickly join the list of people that he’d let down. Hell, he had even tried to warn her off, but he hadn’t expected it to hurt so damn much when she listened and closed herself off from him.

Though, Sam supposed it was for the best. He had never felt so instantly attached to someone, and that was only getting more out of hand with each passing moment. If the pain he felt seeing her hurt herself like she had and what followed after was any indication, Sam needed to get her away from his line of work, and fast. At least then he would be able to rest easier knowing she was safe. He wasn’t so sure he’d be able to live with himself otherwise.

Approaching their motel door, Sam decided he was going to attempt to reassure Vivian one more time, but was interrupted by the sound of a crash coming from within the room. Shocked, Sam’s eyes met Vivian’s wide, fearful ones before he hastily yanked open the door, revealing Bobby on the ground bleeding and Dean on the losing end of a fight. 

“No!” Sam shouted.

Panic held a vice grip on his heart, as he automatically let go of Vivian and went to join Bobby at his side. Before he could get far, however, a bright pain exploded in his face as the motel phone slammed into the bridge of his nose, sending him staggering back.

“Heya, Sammy,” a woman’s voice said cheerfully as she stepped into view. 

While her dark hair and snarky smile were unknown to Sam, he couldn’t help the familiar sinking feeling in his gut when she laughed, saying, “Did ya miss me, Sammy? Because I sure missed you.”

Sam’s mind raced as he quickly put together the pieces. 

“Meg?”

The impish smile the woman gave in return was all the confirmation Sam needed as rage ripped through him and clouded his mind. Anger-driven instinct quickly took over and Sam lunged for the demoness. Meg evaded him with ease, taunting him as she brought him to the ground with quick and savage blows of her own. 

“Not so easy without those super-special demon powers, huh, Sammy?” Meg sneered.

Sam struggled defiantly in her grasp, about to say something indignant in response when a book suddenly flew into Meg’s head from across the room.

“Leave him alone!” Vivian’s voice rang out loud and clear, while waveringly slightly.

_Vivian!_ Sam spiraled as he watched Meg’s eyes darken with some sick amusement. _She needs to get out of here; It isn’t safe!_

Keeping her gaze fixed on Sam, Meg responded casually, “Is that any way to greet an old friend, Vivian?”

“How…How do you know my name?” Vivian demanded, displaying no less bravery than before.

“You don’t recognize me with that neato sight of yours? I’m practically your guardian angel!” Meg snickered.

Sam stole a glance at Vivian as she briefly came into sight behind Meg. He could see a few tears on her face, but her expression was startlingly cold as she responded somewhat distantly, “I didn’t want you to be real.” 

Ignoring his own fear, Sam called out to Vivian in an attempt to reassure her while he continued struggling against Meg who was still holding him down easily, “Viv, it’s going to be alright!”

“I know,” Vivian replied coolly as she stepped fully into Sam’s unobscured view, pulling the trigger of one of his or Dean’s guns.

*  
*  
*

Sam sat quietly in the back seat of the Impala with his arm wrapped tightly around Vivian’s shoulder while Dean drove like a mad man towards their dad’s old storage locker.

Reflecting back on the events that had just transpired, Sam knew he was genuinely lucky Vivian had been there. The shot she took hadn’t been particularly well aimed, but it had hit Meg and created enough of a distraction for Dean to dispatch the demon he had been fighting, while Sam got out from under the demoness. Unsurprisingly, but frustrating all the same, Meg had smoked out the moment she knew she’d lost the upper hand.

Sam remembered Vivian’s shock at the sight as her previous injuries finally brought her to her knees. He was pretty sure Vivian had expected that bullet to do some lasting damage to Meg. They were going to need to revisit that.

Hell, there was _a lot_ they were going to need to revisit. But Sam couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet. Not when they were all so emotionally raw, and without an end in sight.

At the thought, his vision began to blur, and Sam kicked himself, remembering that the reality was that _he_ was selfish. _He_ was too emotionally raw. Suddenly, Vivian’s hand was on his, giving him a comforting squeeze. Sam blinked rapidly, trying to force down all of the emotions that were haunting him. It was the least he could do. Everyone needed him on top of his game, and he couldn’t let anyone else get hurt because of him.

The image of Bobby bleeding out on the ground flashed through his mind. Sam shook his head, trying to clear away the gruesome image, but it wouldn’t budge. 

It didn’t make any sense! How could Vivian have seen what she saw in Bobby, and more importantly, _why didn’t he listen to her when he had the chance?_ Now Bobby could die, and it was all his fault.

And what was Vivian’s history with Meg?

Sam mulled over that particularly concerning development. He had been shocked that Dean hadn’t immediately demanded answers from the young woman, especially given his initial distrust of her, but Sam was now positive that his brother had missed that bit of information during the heat of the moment. It was only a matter of time before the information came to light once more. Sam would need to have a better handle on it all before then if he wanted to shield Vivian from Dean’s react first, question later attitude.

Readjusting so that he could rub the growing tension point between his eyebrows, Sam supposed that he ought to be more wary about the whole thing, but he couldn’t bring himself to be suspicious of Vivian. Glancing down at Vivian’s small hand placed gently on one of his own, Sam could feel nothing but gratitude towards her. It was obvious how vulnerable she had felt sharing what she had seen with him, but she did it anyway to try and keep Dean safe. When that had failed--when _he_ had failed her-- Vivian had voluntarily caused herself immense pain to make up for his lack of faith in her. 

Sam was positive that Dean and Bobby wouldn’t have stood a chance if not for her actions. He just hoped that she would never have to do something like that again, and that she recovered quickly and entirely. 

*  
*  
*

Sam brushed the trigger of his gun nervously as he eyed the dead demons on the floor before him.

For whatever reason, it hadn’t fully clicked with Sam that he and Dean were just throwing Vivian from one life threatening altercation to another on the ride to his dad’s old locker. He had been so preoccupied with his worry over what had happened earlier that it wasn’t until he saw her standing timidly next to Dean, who was choosing his weaponry from the trunk of the Impala, that Sam realized with a jolt that she probably wasn’t able to just wait in the car.

As Vivian trailed cautiously behind him now, Sam felt a small amount of surprise and pride at how cooly Vivian was handling this situation. Unfortunately, that didn’t negate the worry he had, because calm or not, she was still an easy target. And as long as she was vulnerable, they all were.

“I see you told the demons where the sword is.”

Keeping his weapon brandished, Sam spun around to find Zachariah staring at him with a bland irritation. 

“Oh, thank god. The angels are here,” Dean groaned.

The angel’s response going right over his head, Sam cast a distracted glance at Vivian as he tried to place himself between her and Zachariah. Judging by the look of awe on her face, Sam guessed Vivian could once more see something he could not.

Suddenly, the door they had entered from swung closed behind them, and Sam slid a few feet away from Vivian, not of his own accord. Shocked, Sam’s attention snapped back to the angel whose expression was both surprised and mildly impressed as he peered at the young woman before him. 

“And what do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to be here.” Zachariah said to Vivian, giving her a smile that set Sam’s teeth on edge.

Vivian, however, seemed unperturbed as she began challenging the angel with no small number of questions.

The cheshire smile on Zachariah’s face was quickly replaced by agitation.

“Enough!” the angel bellowed before turning his attention back to Dean. “And to think, the demons could’ve grabbed the Michael Sword any time they wanted. It was right in front of them!”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, his blood turning to ice.

Zachariah replied smuggly, “We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside Chuck’s skull, but it happened to be true. We _did_ lose the Michael Sword. We truly could not find it. Until now. You’ve just hand delivered it to us.”

Sam shared a confused look with his brother, who turned back to the angel and said brazenly, “We don’t have anything.”

Zachariah sighed dramatically, “It’s you, chucklehead. You’re the Michael Sword.” 

Taking in Dean’s shocked look, Zachariah smirked and continued, “What, you thought you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing? No. You’re just a human, Dean. And not much of one.” 

“What do you mean, I’m the sword?” Dean asked gruffly.

“You’re _the_ vessel. Michael’s vessel.”

Sam’s heart clenched, and his frustrated disbelief was voiced by his brother only moments later. 

“How?... Why- Why me?”

“Because you’re chosen! It’s a great honor, Dean.”

“Oh, yeah. Life as an angel condom. That’s real fun. I think I’ll pass, thanks.” Dean snarked.

“Joking. Always joking,” the angel tsked. “Well, no more jokes.”

Sam then watched with confusion and dread as the angel raised a hand shaped like a gun and pointed it at Dean. Zachariah seemed to carefully consider his options, before swiveling his aim at Sam. Despite any sense of self-preservation, Sam felt nothing but relief that he--and not his brother-- would be the target of Zachariah’s anger after all he had done. 

But then, the angel’s aim continued right past him and on to Vivian. 

The next moment that followed could only be described as anticlimactic, and Sam watched with horror as Zachariah pulled the trigger, and… There was nothing. 

Irritation and confusion colored the angel’s face in addition to some strain. 

Before Sam could feel any real sense of relief, however, Zachariah’s features once again turned smug, and Vivian let out a blood-curdling scream. 

On instinct, Sam launched himself in her direction, but he wasn’t by her side before he felt his own legs snap, as if they were twigs.

Falling to the ground, Sam let out a roar as red hot pain seared his vision and a mind-numbing ringing overpowered all sound. 

Then, a small hand grabbed his, and Sam looked up to see Vivian looking back at him with tearful eyes, flushed cheeks- either through pain or exertion-- but a soft smile nonetheless. 

She had crawled over to him. Or he had fallen close enough to her. He didn’t know. Either way, his soul ached for her. How could _she_ be the one comforting _him_ at a time like this? She was unbelievable. 

Sound slowly returning, Sam then heard Zachariah tell Dean threateningly, “Keep mouthing off. I’ll break more than some legs. I am completely through screwing around. The war has begun. We don’t have a general. That’s bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?”

“And how many humans die in the crossfire, huh? A million? Five, ten?” Dean questioned the angel angrily. 

“Probably more.” Zachariah responded nonchalantly, “If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them. He’ll roast the planet alive.”

Sam felt the world fall out from underneath him as guilt and panic quickly overtook him for what seemed like the hundredth time. All of this was his fault. It would never not be his fault. 

Sam wished that something would put him out of his misery already. Better yet, Sam wished that he had never existed so he could never hurt all those people in the first place.

Gasping desperately for air, Sam realized dully that his chest was burning with excruciating pain, and Vivian’s face was suddenly directly in front of him; Despite his vision darkening and blurring, Sam could see she was shouting frantically at him, though none of it really registered. 

Sam then realized sluggishly that he might be getting his wish. Ironically, in this instance he wished he had a little more time with Vivian, but he did still largely feel relief. At least now, she would be safe from him; They all would.

Then, a bright flash of blue-white light appeared out of nowhere, making Sam scrunch his eyes closed. He didn’t have the strength to reopen them after that. It was time to let go…

And then, it wasn’t. 

Air suddenly surged back into Sam’s lungs, bringing with it the mental acuity that he had previously lost. Remembering the scene with Zachariah unfolding around him, Sam shot up, looking around wildly while rapidly pushing down all the feelings he had been previously feeling.

Compellingly, Vivian’s arms were thrown tightly around Sam’s neck well before Sam’s bewildered gaze had a chance to find either Vivian or his brother. Relaxing into her embrace, Sam held Vivian in his arms while she cried silently into his chest.

“You two need to be more careful.” came a deep, remanding voice. 

Sam looked up to see Castiel glowering at him, and his brother slowly getting to his feet not far off. 

Sam sighed quietly. He knew that while they were probably okay for the moment, they should really move on to somewhere else, as soon as possible. He wanted to give Vivian another moment, but there just wasn’t time. 

Gingerly, Sam put his hands on her waist and slowly started to disentangle her from him.

In the background, Sam heard Dean tell Cas disbelievingly, “Yeah. I’m starting to get that. Your frat brothers are bigger dicks than I thought.” 

Finally meeting Vivian’s red-rimmed eyes, Sam was shocked by how striking the blue of her eyes and the freckles on the bridge of her nose were in this moment. 

Shaking it off, Sam asked her worriedly, “Are you okay?”

When Vivian gave him a somewhat unsure nod, Sam tried to force a reassuring smile, but it came out as more of a regretful grimace as he helped them both up.

Brushing the dust off his jeans, Sam stared at Castiel appraisingly. If angels rolled their eyes, Castiel’s expression told Sam that he probably would’ve. 

“I don’t mean the angels. Lucifer is circling his vessel. And once he takes it, those hex bags won’t be enough to protect you.”

Glancing over at his brother’s reaction in his peripheral, Sam noticed that Vivian was clutching onto the bottom of his shirt with a deathgrip so he wrapped his arm around her, effectively tucking her into his side. 

“Okay. So what are we supposed to do then, Cas?” Sam asked, leveling his eyes with the angel.

Without a word in response, Castiel quickly began approaching them, and Sam felt Vivian automatically tense up against him.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Vivian asked anxiously, jerking back as Castiel’s hands shot out towards both of them. 

With not enough time to react, Sam could only gasp as he felt a sharp pressure in his chest, and then...nothing.

It seemed that Dean had a similar experience only moments later as he exclaimed demandingly, “Cas, what the hell was that?!”

Unphased, Castiel replied simply, “ An Enochian sigil. It’ll hide you from every angel in creation, including Lucifer.”

“What, did you just brand us with it?” Dean asked, a slight edge to his tone.

“No. I carved it into your ribs.”

“You what!?” Vivian squeaked out loudly.

  
Sam cringed at the stark silence that followed, knowing full well that Castiel was about to re-state the exact same information with his trademark directness if he didn’t step in first. “Hey Cas, were you really dead?”

“Yes.” Castiel confirmed.

“Then how are you back?” Dean asked, with Castiel vanishing only moments later in response. 

“I hate it when he does that!” Dean groaned, “We have other stuff we need to talk to him about! Like Bobby! Like… you know!”

Dean raised his eyebrows and gave Sam a very pointed look before directing his gaze towards Vivian, who was staring at where Castiel had been in shock.

Sam shook his head slightly in warning. “I know. Come on. Let’s get all of this cleaned up so we can get back to Bobby. He needs us right now. We can talk to Cas later.”

Dean gave Sam a look that he knew meant they’d talk about this later. He knew that they needed to. Sam just wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever answers Cas may have for him on Vivian, if any. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Dramajen89! She’s a dream 
> 
> Hope you are well & taking care of yourselves! I know it’s hard these days


	9. A Reminder of What We're Fighting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All translations (and translation errors) belong to google translate. Send any and all complaints their way, not mine! ;)

Vivian looked around the hospital hallway warily. This was one of those times where she couldn’t help but feel both intrusive and displaced. Bobby, who she’d learned was no longer possessed, was getting some particularly bad news from the doctors in the hospital.

“Unlikely to walk again?! Why you snot-nosed son of a bitch! Wait till I get out of this bed!”

Vivian cringed. She was trying to give the scruffy older man some privacy with Sam and Dean, but there was only so much she could do with the electric collar treatment the hex was giving her.

Stretching her back against the uncomfortable plastic of a chair she’d pulled up against the wall, Vivian let out a watery sigh and ran her hands absentmindedly along her newly unbroken legs. She didn’t want to do this anymore; To be fair, she never had, but she had also never been more desperate to be cuddled up on her couch with a cup of tea and a shitty hallmark movie in her life. That wasn’t an option, however, and unfortunately, Vivian was fairly certain this wouldn’t end well for her.

“How are you holding up, kid?”

Vivian looked up to see Dean leaning against the wall before her, making no effort to conceal his exhaustion. 

She paused before answering, “Is there really an acceptable answer here? All signs point to the fact that I should be well into a nervous breakdown or trauma response right now, but we can’t really afford for me to be constantly losing my shit every time something happens. So, instead, I’m just kind of numb.”

Dean smirked, “Maybe you’re one of us after all.”

Vivian nodded faintly. She wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. “Is that what you do then? Just constantly repress your emotions?”

Dean shrugged. “I didn’t say we were well-adjusted. And someone needed to keep the lights on in this god-damned place. Not that it really matters now.”

“Wait, what do you mean? Of course it matters now!” Vivian said, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Dean sighed. “I’ll see you later, Vivian. Tell Sam that the two of you are on your own for tonight.” 

Vivian stared anxiously after the older brother as he disappeared down the hall. Whatever that had been, it didn’t sound good. She figured she should probably tell Sam, but Vivian didn’t want to interrupt him and Bobby if they were in the middle of something. That said, Vivian didn’t have to wonder for long as she soon felt bittersweet surges of warmth, relief, and gratitude from Sam, in addition to his usual levels of guilt and stress. 

“Good,” Vivian thought to herself, “at least one thing is going well tonight.”

Bobby forgiving Sam was a victory in itself, but it brought Sam one step closer to forgiving himself, which Vivian knew he sorely needed.

Moments later, the young man emerged from the hospital room, giving Vivian a soft smile. “Let’s go catch up with Dean.”

Blinking disorientedly, Vivian realized with annoyance that she was on her feet before she’d even processed what Sam had said. Quickly shrugging it off, Vivian smiled warmly back at him. “Alright! I think he’s heading out though. He told me that we were on our own for the night.”

“Are you sure? That doesn’t sound right.” Sam asked with a confused look before briskly setting off down the hall. 

Vivian rolled her eyes. She had a feeling that she was going to be slightly jogging everywhere to keep up with this man! Granted, it was likely a bit more frustrating now because Vivian still felt some of the effects from the episode that occurred when she tried to leave Sam at the church earlier that day.

*

*

*

Listening to the fallout between the two brothers, Vivian couldn’t decide who she was more furious with; Herself for not anticipating this-- she was usually really good at picking up on these kinds of things--, or Dean, for deciding to get into this  _ right now _ . They had all already been well-past one emotional rollercoaster too many that day; Vivian really didn’t think they needed any new emotional turmoil added in at this point.

Vivian flinched at the words “I don’t think I can trust you.” followed by the sound of Dean slamming the car door and driving off. Throughout the entire fight, she hadn’t taken her gaze off of Sam once, and she had never seen him look quite so devastated as he did now. 

Wordlessly, Sam turned away and began shuffling slowly back to the hospital.

“Wait, Sam!” Vivian called after him. “Where are you going?”

Not meeting her gaze, Sam replied listlessly, “Back inside. I’m going to keep Bobby company.”

“Visiting hours ended 30 minutes ago, and the hospital knows you aren’t legally related.” Vivian reminded him gently, offering out her hand.

Sam shook his head. “Then I’ll stay in the waiting room.” 

Frustration flashed through Vivian. She was about at her wits end, but she tried to double down on her patience nonetheless. “No, come on Sam. Let’s go get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need to sleep.” Sam replied harshly.

Vivian bristled in disbelief. “Gods, Sam. Seriously? I do! I’m still recovering from all of today. I’m  _ not  _ fine. And don’t hit me with that bull of not needing sleep. What you  _ need  _ is to take care of yourself.” 

Sam gave her a strange look before letting out a small chuckle.

“What?” Vivian challenged, one eyebrow raised.

“You.. you just remind me of someone I used to know. She used to chew me out about taking care of myself like this too. Though, she was upset about me pulling repeat all nighters at the campus library,” Sam said fondly.

“She’d tell you when you were back on your bullshit,” Vivian replied with a wide grin.

“Yeah. She would.” Sam said, and some of the brief lightness left his demeanor as he got a faraway look in his eye.

Noticing the change, Vivian asked gently, “What was her name?”

“Jess.”

“I’d like to hear about her some day.” Vivian said kindly.

Sam nodded and gave her a soft smile. “I’d like that too.”

Vivian watched Sam pause for a second, taking in a deep breath of the night’s cool, crisp air. On the exhale, his shoulders dropped slightly as he released a small fraction of the stress he was carrying.

Turning his full attention back to Vivian, Sam gave her a dazzling smile that put his dimples on full display. Heat rushed to Vivian’s face as she begrudgingly recognized the telltale feeling of butterflies in her stomach.

“Viv?” Sam said with a smirk.

Vivian jumped with a start. “Sorry?”

“I asked if you wanted to get something to eat before we find a motel?”

Vivian looked at Sam with wide eyes. The way he was looking at her was practically smoldering. Mortified, she realized that he had probably felt all of what she had just then.

Nodding quickly, Vivian replied with an anxious squeak, “Sounds great! You wanna call a cab or ask a hospital employee what’s good around here?”

Sam nodded towards the hospital with a light smile. “Let’s ask what’s good around here. I’m sick of diner food.” 

*

*

*

Sam hesitated awkwardly on the outskirts of the motel room that he and Vivian had rented for the night. Dinner had been great. They had gone to a small, family-owned Mexican restaurant not too far from the hospital, and he had actually managed to keep his mind off of Dean for most of it, which he would’ve previously guessed was impossible given the circumstances. He also thought it had likely ended up being exactly what Vivian needed, so that she had something positive from the day to hold on to.

The beginning of a smile tugged at Sam’s lips as he thought back on it all. Vivian was just so dynamic. He’d watched her as she’d effortlessly charmed the owner of the restaurant, a warm older woman named María, without even realizing it. Soon, the two women were lively bantering back and forth in Spanish, and complimentary Margaritas--sent over in jumbo pitchers-- were on the table.

Sam had originally felt inclined to make it known that he also knew enough Spanish to get by-- thanks to Bobby’s intensive language lessons--, but before he had gotten a word in edgewise, the older woman had asked Vivian what her relationship to Sam was. Upon seeing Vivian’s freckled cheeks turn a bright crimson, Sam somewhat guiltily decided he also wanted to hear her response and opted to play this bit of information close to the chest.

Much to his disappointment, Vivian had simply replied with a good-natured laugh that she and Sam were friends. Although, Sam was fairly certain that María hadn’t believed a word of it; Unsurprisingly at this point, Sam took a fair amount of smug satisfaction in the fact that he didn’t really believe her either.

That said, Sam’s favorite part of the night had come later. As it turned out, María’s granddaughter had gotten engaged that evening. The proposal had actually happened in a picturesque corner of the very restaurant Sam and Vivian were in, while they were there. Being that most of the customers present were either family or regulars, everyone got grandfathered into the celebration. Rapidly, tables and chairs were pushed out of the way in favor of a dance floor, lively music started playing, and alcohol flowed freely.

Sam had been watching Vivian from a distance with mirthful eyes as she offered her congratulations to María. Sam appreciated the moment because he had needed this reminder of the good in the world that still existed, the good he was fighting for. In response to Vivian’s congratulations, the elderly woman gave a wide grin before giving Vivian a mischievous look that suddenly had Sam straining his ears to hear every word spoken between them.

“¿Por qué no bailas con ese gigantesco novio tuyo?” (Why aren’t you dancing with that giant boyfriend of yours?)

Sam had smirked as Vivian’s cheeks once again flushed to what was quickly becoming his favorite color.

Sputtering, Vivian had replied unconvincingly, “ María!  No pasa nada ahí.” ( María! There is nothing going on there.)

Amused by Vivian 's demureness, the old woman laughed heartily before responding, “ Bueno, ahora es un excelente momento para cambiar eso.” (Well now is an excellent time to change that.) 

With a smirk,  María then turned on her heels and started back towards her family. Passing by Sam, the kindly restaurant owner had slyly slowed to a stop and said just loudly enough for only Sam to hear, “ ¿No es así, joven?” (Isn’t that right, young man?)

Sam’s back had stiffened in shock at having been clocked by the elderly woman who, clearly amused, had snorted and merely continued on her way. Then, Vivian had stepped directly into view, glancing shyly up at him with one hand extended, as she asked him if he wanted to dance.

Guilty thoughts of Dean had rushed forward, telling him that he shouldn’t be enjoying himself at a time like this, but with the warmth of the alcohol in his veins and the energy in the atmosphere around him as he watched Vivian’s ocean eyes glitter back at him hopefully, Sam was able to temporarily push those thoughts and feelings aside. Taking Vivian’s hand firmly in his own, Sam had spun Vivian into him as they made their way to the dance floor, where they gave themselves to the magic of the moment. He had lost track of how many times they’d twirled and spun around the entirety of the dance floor, as though they were determined to map out every inch of it. His hands always remained carefully placed on the gentle curve of Vivian’s waist.

Sam’s hands currently twitched by his side at the thought. Somewhere along the line in their festivities, he had become just a little drunker than he would’ve liked. It had translated into him catching himself with the intention of kissing Vivian more than once and then rapidly trying to scale back, to avoid crossing any lines. There were just too many reasons and doubts for him to be able to do that! It was the safer and smarter thing to do, for everyone.

Now, Sam sat from his seat at the coffee table, staring warily at the singular, queen bed in their motel room. There was  _ supposed _ to have been two beds, and the front desk person had been frustratingly less than inclined to correct this mistake upon discovery as the motel had a strict no refunds policy and were otherwise all booked up for the nights.

That would have been all fine and good-- Sam could easily sleep on the floor-- except for that he hadn’t stopped wanting to feel Vivian’s legs wrapped around his waist and her lips hot on his since she had gotten all flustered outside the hospital. Then he remembered the tension between them as he had brushed his fingertips down the small of her back, while they had been dancing. God. 

_ This bed was not helping.  _

Sam then heard the shower head turn off from within the bathroom. Vivian would be back out any minute, and he needed to get it together before then. There was  _ a lot  _ they needed to cover from the safety of outside Dean’s earshot, and Sam refused to let himself cross any lines with Vivian because escapism was one of his crappy coping mechanisms, though a part of him-- that he refused to acknowledge-- was fairly certain that wasn’t entirely what was happening here.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Sam realized that these anxious, logistical musings had succeeded in distracting him enough to get him in line. Unfortunately, that went out the window the second Vivian exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam with her damp, midnight hair falling and curling gently around her face. 

Scrambling to his feet, Sam cringed at the awkwardness as his chair skidded away loudly. Putting one hand down to steady both the table and himself, he let his gaze fall back to Vivian. Her eyes were unreadable, but her face was covered in her signatory deep blush that lit a fire in his stomach. For a second, Sam thought he might do anything to see that blush, and Vivian knew it too, judging by the way her eyes had widened slightly. 

This emotional link was going to be the death of him.

“Vivian.” Sam said, his voice much more hoarse and rasping than he intended or realized. 

Without meaning to, he had crossed the distance between them in a few quick strides, stopping only when she was just slightly out of reach.

Watching her up close with uncontrollably hungry eyes, Sam noticed Vivian was trembling slightly and was taking what looked to be specifically controlled and shallow breaths. 

Suddenly filled with self-doubt and some semblance of consideration for his ongoing concerns, Sam faltered. “Vivian, I--”

Vivian quickly cut him off. “No, it’s okay, Sam.”

She paused for a brief moment with a calculating look in her eye before Sam felt a surge of adrenaline come through on the emotional link.

Despite every cell in his body demanding that he take Vivian up in his arms and kiss every inch of her, Sam forced himself to stay perfectly still as Vivian closed the distance between them and carefully ghosted her hands across his face.

Closing his eyes, Sam leaned into her hands gently. He was almost overwhelmed by the intimacy of it. So much so that he almost thought he’d imagined it when Vivian brushed her lips over his with the most feather light of touches but then it happened a second time, and he knew he hadn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sparse updates y'all. I've got the Quarantine Fatigue, and it is thoroughly wearing me down mentally and energy wise. As someone with chronic health issues that make this whole ordeal that much scarier, let me just say: Please taking quarantining seriously. I think we all want this to be resolved, and that's the only real way we're going to get there at this point in time.
> 
> Annyyyways. Thank you to the lovely DramaJen89 for being a lovely beta and lovely person! You should all check out her Sam/OFC fic series! It's very compelling. 
> 
> Also! I would love to hear your thoughts and/or feedback on the story so far so please feel free to share 'em if you got 'em! Hopefully this chapter brought some much needed fluff into your life. I know writing it brought some into mine!
> 
> Xx Allie


	10. Wishful Thinking and Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some spice, fluff, and angst. That's the trifecta, right?
> 
> Minor TW warnings: Some consensual physicality, mentions of canon typical violence, mentions of health issues, nightmares
> 
> Sorry for the delay in sharing this chapter! Hopefully the length and the ~moments~ between these two crazy kids makes up for it. :)
> 
> Ps all translations (and translation errors) belong to google translate

Vivian stared up at Sam, her heart racing as she waited for him to react to her affections. He didn’t though; His eyes stayed closed. His face remained cradled by her hands. Vivian could barely tell if he was even breathing. It seemed as though he was pained by his own stillness.

Feeling discouraged, Vivian came down from her tiptoes, and gently began to remove her hands from Sam’s face. This, however, Sam reacted to immediately as he quickly captured her hands in his own before they were too far removed from his face.

With bated breath, Vivian watched as Sam slowly returned her hands to his face, but not before slowly brushing his lips over her pulse points; His powerful gaze never faltered from her once, and for a moment, Vivian felt like she was held there by a force outside herself as she stared back into his eyes just as resolutely. The only movement or sound between them was that of their chests heaving as tension and anticipation achieved new heights, until an unwitting whimper escaped Vivian’s lips, and Sam’s eyes darkened in response with a hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. 

“Eres tan hermosa, Vivian.” (You’re so beautiful, Vivian.)

Vivian’s heart stuttered as she realized Sam had understood everything at the restaurant, and then his lips came crashing down on her own not seconds later, swallowing up any response she might’ve had.

It took her a split second for her mind to catch up to reality, but once it did, Vivian quickly found herself with her hands tangled in Sam’s hair, kissing him back in earnest.

She had never had a kiss that affected her so deeply before-- set her ablaze in mind, body, and soul--, and she wanted Sam to know it too so when she felt his tongue teasing her lip line, demanding access, Vivian gave it to him without a second thought. Deepening the kiss with a moan, one of Sam’s strong, calloused hands carefully tilted Vivian’s face even closer to his, while the other hand trailed down her waist, teasing at the hemline of her shirt before settling snuggly on her ass, pulling her flush against him.

At this point, the heat sparking up and down her body was almost unbearable—simultaneously being too much and not enough—, but Vivian couldn’t bring her lust-addled mind to care. Vivian would happily explode if it meant Sam would just keep kissing her. 

Judging by the groan that escaped Sam seconds later, accompanied by a tidal wave of lustful pleasure in the emotional-link, Vivian knew that Sam agreed.

Taking her hands from their firm position in Sam’s hair, Vivian started fumbling with the buttons on Sam’s jeans only to be thwarted by a blur of movement that suddenly had her off the ground and pinned sinfully between Sam and the motel wall.

Unfortunately, something in this new position activated part of her injuries of that day because a dull throb shot through her body, causing her to wince and pull back in a slight hiss of pain.

Sensing the shift, Sam stiffened and retreated slightly, his eyes immediately searching Vivian’s face for what she assumed was some answer to all the guilt-and-anxiety-driven questions she could see rapidly forming in his eyes.

“Oh my god, Vivian. I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, concern coloring his tone.

“No, it’s not that. I--” Vivian started, wanting to reassure him.

Before she got a few words in edgewise, Sam cut her off and set her down with a horrified look on his face. “I overstepped. I crossed lines I shouldn’t have, and I made you uncomfortable.”

“Sammy, no--”

“I-- I am so sorry. You’re in this _terrible_ position, and I’m the one who is supposed to keep you safe, _make you feel safe.”_ Sam continued, running a hand through his hair raggedly. “But… At the end of the day, I’m just some strange and probably scary man that you don’t know, and I--”

“SAM!” Vivian shouted, taking his face in her hands and rapidly pulling Sam down for one chaste kiss. “Stop it. That’s not what happened. Take a breath.”

Sam let out a sound of surprise from deep in his throat, staring at Vivian before blinking wildly and shaking his head as though to clear it. Some amount of internal struggle and disbelief was still evident on his face, but Vivian supposed this was as good of an improvement as any.

Giving him a small smile, she continued, “What was happening...That was amazing. I wanted that just as much as you did.” Vivian paused as she felt her cheeks begin to flush. “Believe me. I know that’s true. I could _feel_ how badly you wanted this through the emotional link, and I was right there with you.”

Vivian let out a mischievous snicker before her eyes turned soft once more. “Couldn’t you feel me too?”

Sam gave her a slow nod; Some of the anxiety in his eyes had been replaced by confusion and concern.

“So, what happened?” Sam asked, cautiously taking Vivian’s hands off his face in order to wrap them up in his own.

Vivian replied with a small shrug. “I got hurt multiple times today. It’s no surprise that the pain from at least one of those injuries decided to make itself known.”

Sam balked. “Uh, yes it is. Cas healed you. You shouldn’t even have childhood scars anymore, let alone leftover pain.”

Vivian’s brows furrowed together in stress and confusion, and her heart began to race. She was barely holding it together with all this supernatural crap. Her saving grace had been that she had been telling herself that this was just how things were in the supernatural world, but if this was strange or uncharted territory for Sam, she was screwed. 

Sam sighed and released Vivian’s hands to rub his own over his jaw in contemplation. “Okay, how about you sit down? I’ve got a lot of questions, and I am sure you do too.”

  
  


Vivian gave a small grimace and sat down on the bed, quickly feeling disappointed when Sam sat facing towards her, but just out of arm's reach. Suddenly filled with insecurity and self-doubt, Vivian was acutely aware of the fact that she was once again the one who needed comforting, but she didn’t know how to ask for it.

“ _Dean is right,_ ” Vivian thought gravely, “ _I’m not going to last long if I don’t toughen up._ ”

  
Steeling herself up, Vivian gave another nod to Sam, who seemed to have realized that she needed a moment to prepare.

Taking a deep breath, Vivian finally said with a solemn look, “Okay, ask me your questions.”

*

*

*

Sam settled in on the bed across from Vivian, somewhat against his own will. As much as he’d like to pick up where they’d left off --on some smaller, more innocent level-- he knew that he owed it to Dean, himself, everyone really, to try and get a read on her reactions and sincerity as they talked through the concerns he had. Regardless of what he did or didn’t feel for her, he needed to remember that she _was_ a stranger to him, and he had been burned before. He needed to get an objective read on what she did and didn’t know, and the best way to do that was to be able to see her face. It was now or never.

Giving his shoulders a quick roll, Sam decided to start with an easy one. “What injury still hurts?”

Her soft, rosy color instantly flushed Vivian’s cheeks as she mumbled shyly that the pain was from trying to go back to the motel without him.

Sam forced himself to ignore the fire that lit in his belly as he asked her if she wanted to stretch her legs into his lap so she’d recover faster but they could still talk, by forcing himself to focus on his remaining guilt over the incident instead.

Moments later, they were readjusted so Vivian’s legs were sprawled out over his own, and his hands rested gently on her knee. He groaned inwardly, knowing what Dean would think of his objectiveness, but Sam couldn’t deny the subtle release of tension he saw in her shoulders when he laid a hand on her. 

_“And I can still see her face entirely,”_ Sam reasoned to himself.

“How did you know what was happening with Bobby?” Sam asked carefully.

Vivian stiffened and then seemed to forcibly relax herself. 

“ _She was waiting for this question. And she’s nervous about it.”_ Sam noted to himself, unconsciously giving her knee a supportive squeeze.

“I could see a monster overlaid on his face. Kind of like a 3-D mask, except you can also sort of see what’s underneath.”

“And you could do that with Meg, and the angels too?”

She gave a firm nod, her eyes guarded.

“How long have you been able to do that?”

Vivian grimaced, “I don’t know. I was diagnosed with schizophrenia way before children are supposed to be able to exhibit symptoms. And...As much as I’d like to, I can’t just assume that everything I’ve seen is real. Sure, maybe I can see the supernatural, but maybe that’s because I’m crazy. Or maybe I’m crazy because I can see the supernatural. I don’t know.. Does that make sense?”

Before Sam could respond, Vivian let out an agitated huff and plopped her head in her hands as she mumbled, “I hope it’s neither.”

Despite the fact that he knew this was clearly a point of long-term emotional conflict for Vivian, Sam couldn’t help but feel endeared to her. Letting himself sit with that for just a moment too long, Sam decided he had to ask one of the hard questions next. “How do you know Meg?”

Vivian’s head snapped up, and her eyes went wide; Sam wasn’t surprised to see real fear there as she took a shaky breath, but he was surprised by the satisfaction and relief he felt over it. It wasn’t that he wanted her to be afraid, but if she was afraid, it meant she was being honest with him, he reasoned.

That satisfaction and relief only lasted momentarily before being replaced by guilt tenfold when Vivian’s voice broke with a harsh crack as she tried to answer his question. 

“I-- I think Meg was sent to torture me. Or she’s stalking me because it’s fun. I don’t know, but she’s been following me around, terrorizing me for _my whole life_. I thought I was free of her somewhat recently, and that was after a long-term stay at my not so favorite in-patient facility and a whole lot of drugs.”

A tear slowly started working down Vivian’s face. 

“ _Fuck this._ ” Sam thought to himself, beginning to reach for her, but he froze in surprise when she quickly threw out a hand to stop him.

“No. _I’m fine._ ” She told him firmly, while rubbing the tear away furiously with the corner of her shirt, leaving part of her tone stomach exposed for a fraction of a second.

Sam stared at her with concern etched into his features. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Vivian responded unconvincingly.

Sam looked at her, waiting for her to continue with an eyebrow raised skeptically.

“I need to toughen up anyways, or else I’m not going to make it.” Vivian muttered once she noticed the look on his face.

“Vivian, I--” Sam started with alarm.

“Please don’t, Sam. Spare me the speech about how I’m going to be okay. The truth is you don’t _know_ that. I might not. And..And I’m hanging on by a thread right now, but I don’t want to be. So...please just leave that alone for right now. So I can keep it together.”

The pleading look on Vivian’s face nearly cut Sam to his core. “Okay,” he acquiesced. “Are you ready to keep going?”

Vivian’s face became stony as she gave him another firm nod, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Sam continued, “Okay...You said Meg has been around for most of your life, and earlier she called herself your guardian angel. Did she ever give you a reason why? Are there other abilities you have that someone could try to take advantage of?”

“No! No to both. I swear she’s never done anything good for me…” Vivian trailed off, suddenly looking confused.

“What? Why are you making that face?” 

“I...I don’t know. I feel like I’m forgetting something? But that doesn’t make sense. I think I’d remember her giving me literally any explanation as to why she’s been torturing me all these years,” Vivian groaned, rubbing her temples. “She’s got to be fucking with me. If my ability to see the supernatural was so helpful, wouldn't she have tried to take advantage of it by now? And surely I’d be much more of a liability to be of much valuable because of the way I am.”

Sam shot her an inquiring look, and Vivian sighed. “I have chronic health issues. I’m kind of a mess, if you haven’t noticed.” Vivian replied with a weak shrug.

“Wait, really? That’s surprising. I would’ve assumed something like that would be more obvious or more of a problem in the two days I’ve known you, given how physically active and stressful things have been.”

Vivian waved Sam off nonchalantly. “It hasn’t been relevant. I’m able to manage it with a strict diet for the most part. Most people aren’t as lucky.”

Sam nodded before giving her a wide grin, “You know...I bet you don’t even have them anymore because of Cas healing you. So, at least there’s that, right?”

“I guess we'll just have to test it, when this is all said and done.”

Although she replied coolly, Sam didn’t miss the way Vivian’s eyes lit up with hope and excitement at the prospect before she schooled her features. 

“You got it, tiger.” He responded with a chuckle.

A brief giggle escaping her lips, Vivian scooted closer to Sam so she could lightly smack his arm. 

“Shuddup.” Her notorious shade of pink tinged Vivian’s cheeks as she responded with a shy smile.

Sam let out a snort. “I can’t believe it’s only been two days since we met. It feels like ages.”

“Agreed.” Vivian replied softly, looking at him with a piercing clarity that Sam had to shake himself from.

Feeling satisfied with the responses Vivian had given him, Sam decided this was as good of a stopping point as any, and he decided to hand the reins over to Vivian for a bit, with an encouraging nudge. “Okay, your turn. What questions do you have for me?”

Vivian’s face turned contemplative as she pondered what questions she wanted to ask. Watching her, Sam noted that he liked the way she worried her lower lip between her teeth when she was thinking something over. It was cute.

“What happened to Meg, after I shot her?” Vivian asked, startling Sam from his affectionate musings.

“Oh, I am glad you asked about that. I meant to circle back to this. She smoked out.”

“She smoked out?”

“Yeah! She, uh.” Sam scratched the back of his neck. “The dark smoke _was_ Meg. So essentially, Meg stopped possessing the mea- er, the girl’s body, and escaped. She’s probably possessing someone else by now.”

“So she’s not dead? But I shot her!” Vivian cried in disbelief.

Sam gave Vivian a sympathetic look and shook his head. “No, she’s not. You can’t hurt a demon with normal weapons. You could shoot a demon in their heart, and it wouldn’t do anything.”

“But the other two demons are dead, aren’t they? I didn’t see the one that Dean was fighting smoke out, and I also heard Dean say he’d kill the demon that hurt Bobby all over again if he could when we were first waiting to hear back from the doctor. They were stabbed with a knife.”

“Ah. Yeah, they weren’t stabbed with just any knife. It’s an extremely powerful and rare relic that can kill demons. I’ve never seen anything else like it, and if we didn’t have it, our only other good option would be exorcisms which only sends the demons back to hell.”

Vivian nodded in understanding when a dark shadow crossed over her face. Sam waited a few moments to see what, if anything, Vivian would say next. When she did finally speak, her voice sounded a little softer and smaller than it had before. “The people who get possessed, what happens to them when a demon smokes out or gets exorcised?”

“It depends. The demon usually picks up some life-ending injuries along the way so once the demon is gone, those people succumb to those injuries....Assuming they aren’t already gone themselves; We aren’t totally clear on how that works. But, if the demon smokes out and the body is fine, the person wakes up. Albeit pretty traumatized.” Sam answered.

Vivian gasped, and her tears welled up, threatening to spill over once more. “So, I killed that woman then? She’s dead because _I_ shot her?”

This time, when Sam tried to pull her into him so that her back was flush against his chest, she didn’t stop him.

“No, you didn’t. I saw some old injuries from Meg that would’ve killed her first.” Sam lied, pressing a kiss to the side of her temple. “The sides, if you hadn’t taken that shot, Meg would’ve killed us all. You saved us today. More than once I might add.”

Vivian let out a shuddering sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sammy.”

“Sure thing, Vivian.” Sam murmured softly in response, nestling his head into the crook of Vivian’s neck. 

A few minutes went by and Sam felt Vivian relax further and further into his arms. He was fairly certain she had dozed off on him for the second night in a row. Not that he was complaining. In all honesty, he was struggling to keep his own eyes open too.

Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, Sam roused Vivian gently. “Viv, let’s get you laying down in bed. Okay sweetheart?”

He let out a hushed laugh when she let out a huff and refused to budge. “Vivian, I promise you, we’ll both be thanking me tomorrow. I don’t think either one of us would be feeling so hot if we slept sitting up.”

“S’not that.” Vivian slurred, her voice thick with sleep. “I have more questions.”

“Okay. How about we go over the rest of them tomorrow? It’s already pretty late, and it’s been a long day.”

“Alright.” Vivian responded with a soft sigh.

With an equally soft chuckle, Sam gently picked Vivian up off of him and positioned her so that she was laying down on her side before going to the other side of the room to flip off the lights. Returning to the bedside table in the dark, Sam began fumbling for a pillow and an extra blanket when Vivian’s voice, accompanied by the light of her bedside lamp, stopped him. 

“No, don’t.” Vivian said, looking up with him with bleary eyes. 

She was completely under the covers so she must’ve woken up a bit more while he was trying to get himself set up, Sam surmised.

“Don’t what?”

“Sleep on the floor. I mean, not if you don’t want to, that is. Or…” Vivian blushed, hesitating.

“Or?” Sam pressed, his heart pounding traitorously at the prospect of sharing a bed with her, despite all that had already happened between them that night.

“Or could you at least stay with me until I fall asleep? It would make me feel safer, I think.” Vivian asked, her voice sounded slightly timid and unsure of herself.

Sam blinked in surprise, the pause in his reaction immediately giving way to embarrassed and flustered apologies from Vivinan.

“No, no, no! Relax. It just took me a second to process, is all.” Sam soothed, while quickly climbing into the bed as he was. Part of him wished he had something more comfortable than jeans to sleep in, but he knew the possibility of stripping down at all would do more harm than good because the added worry of accidentally overstepping a boundary would end up causing him way more discomfort than the jeans would. 

Shifting to turn off the light, Vivian gave a small sigh of relief. Seconds later, Sam felt a small hand in the dark tentatively teasing at his shoulder, a silent question. Readjusting slightly and holding his arm out openly, Vivian’s head was nestled into Sam’s chest not a moment after.

“Sam?”

“Mm?”

“Dean said you would teach me self defense.”

“He did? S’not a bad idea.”

“Can we start first thing tomorrow morning?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, thank you. Goodnight Sammy.” Vivian rose slightly, placing a soft kiss into the hollow of his throat.

Freezing for a split second, Sam’s heart skipped a beat before he returned her kiss with one of his own at the crown of her head. “Goodnight Vi.”

*

*

*

_Sam fell back onto the soft mattress with ease. Not a care in the world, he laid there smiling as feather-light kisses trailed up his neck and over his jawline._

_“I missed you too, Jess.” Sam said with a warm chuckle._

_“Not Jess,” replied a whisper of a voice that sounded an awful lot like Jess’s._

_Confused, Sam opened his eyes to see Jess standing at the foot of the bed-- flickering in and out of view-- with a sorrowful expression on her face._

_“Oh god, Jess baby--” Sam was interrupted by something wet and sticky dripping onto his face from above._

_Sam hastily wiped away at his face, and his stomach roiled when that hand came back blood-red. Looking at Jess with horror, he saw that she was pointing ominously at the ceiling above him. Following her direction, Sam cried out in anguish when he found Vivian pinned to the ceiling, quickly bleeding out just as Jess had and his mother before her._

_“No!” Sam sobbed as an explosion of flames engulfed her and him soon after._

*

*

*

Sam jerked awake, his heart racing. Scrambling to sit up, Sam froze when he saw Vivian’s small form— illuminated by partial slivers of moonlight trickling in from one of the windows—curled up within reach, sleeping soundly. Suddenly all too aware of his movements, Sam slid out of bed as quietly but promptly as possible and rushed to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him firmly.

Now with a door between them and some semblance of privacy, Sam slid to the floor with a sound that was somewhere torn between a harsh gasp for air and a sob. Running a trembling hand through his sweat-drenched hair, he tried to blink back the tears in his eyes to no avail. Eventually, he just let them fall, never quite knowing whether he was crying for Jess, Vivian, or himself.

After some time, his ragged breaths began to even out, and he dragged himself to his feet reluctantly. Giving himself a once over, Sam decided he definitely needed a shower, and there was no time like the present.

Scrubbing himself down, Sam forced himself to think about what the dream meant. He didn’t think it was a predictive vision like he’d had with Jess, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t important. It was a sign of a different problem at hand. One that Sam had already thought about countless times and knew better about: His feelings for Vivian.

Each time he had thought about his growing connection to her-- and hers to him--, he had come to the conclusion that it was wrong. It only made them both vulnerable, and it was going to end up getting someone killed. Each time he thought about it, he decided he needed to put up stronger walls and create more emotional distance, and each time, she drew him right back in without ever realizing what was happening.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Given her indefinite status on team Winchester, Sam knew he needed her to keep it together, and he realized he would likely play a key role in that, but he didn’t know how to do that without simultaneously getting more emotionally invested in her, and she him. He obviously didn’t _want_ to stop emotionally investing in her. So basically, he was screwed.

Sam needed to put a stop to everything, and he needed to do it _now._ Stepping out of the shower and drying off, Sam willed himself to be a better, stronger man. Even if it killed him, he wanted to do this right. Exiting the bathroom quietly and walking back over to the bed, Sam saw that Vivian had scarcely moved an inch in the time he had been gone. Sparing a glance at the clock on her bedside table, Sam guessed he’d gotten about 4.5 hours of sleep--which was an hour and a half longer than his average--, and it would be at least another 2 hours before Dean would possibly wake up which meant that Vivian could sleep at least that long before they should get up for a self defense lesson. They’d head back over to the hospital for Bobby after.

Sam winced. He didn’t have any of his stuff so he couldn't do any research, which meant sleep was the next best use of his time. Staring warily at Vivian, Sam fought with himself internally before deciding he would _not_ get back into that bed no matter how badly he wanted to.

With a resigned sigh, San deftly grabbed his pillow and the extra blanket from before and sprawled out on the floor adjacent to the bed. Closing his eyes, Sam prayed silently that sleep would take him quickly so he could stop trying to convince himself that the extra two feet of space between he and Vivian would have any bearing on his feelings for her. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t successful on either account.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! I hope you're happy and healthy, starting the new year out strong. Goodbye dumpster fire 2020!!
> 
> Please be extra nice about this chapter; I put it straight from my brain to this page, because I was so excited to finally be past my writers block!


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